Delirium
by AlisonAPD
Summary: Part three of the Celestial Twins series. Natasha, Loki, and Sif have settled easily into a strange relationship, but when Thor returns from Midgard everything is thrown into motion. As hidden treachery comes to light, Natasha's arrangement with the Allfather and her own future is threatened by a powerful source.
1. Sif

_**NOTE - This is the final book in the Celestial Twins series, told in a series of chapters that alternate between Sif's and Natasha's points of view. I've written out of my comfort zone here, but throughout it all Loki and Natasha just can't stay away from each other. Promise.**_

* * *

**1 Sif**

* * *

"The entire suite of kitchens needs be scrubbed from top to bottom," Sif declared. "I have never seen such filth in all my days."

One boy sniggered and jerked a thumb over his back. "Might be as filthy as the AllFather's mind and heart…"

His voice was cut off when she grasped his collar and held him up against the wall with one arm; as usual, Sif couldn't help exulting in the strength bolting throughout her frame. "Another word about the king and I will slit your belly. Go and fetch the buckets, boy."

"We did already set the maids to scrubbing," a harassed cook at the ovens confessed, "but they said they could not remove the stains from the floors."

"Oh, did they?" Sif raised one eyebrow. "Inform them with the future Queen's compliments that I shall inspect the rooms later, and if I see a single spot I will take to the scrubbing brushes myself. And," she added, "_if_ I am able to clean up what they leave behind they shall spend a night in the stocks."

The cook's eyes glinted with something like relief. "Aye, my Lady," she replied.

Sif, certain the kitchens would be gleaming by that evening, continued into the halls. One chore down, with many to follow… She eyed the crumbling pillars, the dusty tapestries, unswept stairs. Dirty plates were on the tables; a pile of books rested on one chair. The entire Palace had to be restored; she refused to rule over nothing less than a glorious realm.

Sweeping the books into her arms, she made several mental notes and marched on. In the main courtyard she came upon a very weary-looking Natasha trailing in after a group of guards. "We expected you yesterday!" Sif cried. "Come to my chambers, where we can talk at length." She dismissed the guards with a sharp order to inspect the garrisons and, balancing the dusty books in the crook of her elbow, put one arm around Natasha's waist. "It pleases me beyond telling to see you," she couldn't help whispering into the red curls.

* * *

In Sif's former rooms, Natasha seemed to relax somewhat. "This case with Karnilla and the asylum is so tangled you wouldn't believe it," she said as Sif gave her a tankard of ale. "I still can't figure out why I was taken into the hospital in the first place. Loki's term there makes some sense, though, if the one behind it all is who we suspect."

"Amora." Sif lifted her own tankard for a long draught, considering. "Perhaps she thought she could rid herself of you both in one blow?"

"But it sabotaged her own plan." Natasha shook her head. "If Loki had been there on his own, she could have kept him inside for a much longer time – entertained with pretty nurses and subdued by the drugs. Why throw a SHIELD agent into the mix? That's what I still don't understand."

"Perhaps she underestimated you," Sif mused. "Many consider mortals to be weak, insignificant creatures – myself included, before I met you." Idly she picked through the books she had found below in the palace and dusted them off with her sleeve.

Natasha nodded. "It is good to be here – and this ale is amazing! And strong. It's actually making me a little tipsy."

Sif's heart lurched at the lines of exhaustion around the agent's eyes. She set the little pile to one side and tugged Natasha's chair closer to her own so she could kiss the pale skin of the lovely Midgardian. "Stay here for longer this time. You always rush back so quickly."

"Did I hear someone mention ale and getting tipsy?" Loki, a mischievous grin on his face, entered the room. He strode up to Natasha, seized her shoulders, and pulled her out of her chair to embrace her closely. "And has Sif already asked you to stay?"

"I have." In truth Sif was worried by Natasha's appearance – never had the agent looked so pale, so drawn. Even her face seemed thinner. "Let us dine here, and you can rest this night in my bed if you wish."

"We cannot all fit in that plank!" Loki indicated Sif's maiden rooms with one contemptuous sweep of his arm. "And certainly I shall be by your side all night, Agent. That goes without saying."

"Food," Sif insisted before pulling a long bellrope.

* * *

She was glad to see some color come to Natasha's cheeks as they ate, but in the middle of a rambling theory about Sylvie Lushton the agent fell asleep suddenly, her head coming to rest on the arm of her chair. Sif caught her as she slid and Loki picked her up in his arms. "It looks as though it will be your bed after all," he acceded.

She caught the disappointment in his tone. "Come, get her between the sheets."

Once Natasha was settled, Sif drew up a pair of stools and smoothed a red curl off the agent's face. Loki took the other seat and held Natasha's hand in both of his. "You love her, do you not?" he asked.

"I…" Sif stopped and pressed her lips against Natasha's fingers where they lay in Loki's palm. "She is a friend – perhaps the first I have had since Thor left Asgard. I did not realize how alone I was until she came to us." Steadily she regarded him. "In truth I am grateful for the peace she has brokered between you and me, Loki. Our quarrel was long and bitter – I am glad to put it aside."

His quick grin appeared. "Loki!" he exclaimed. "Usually you call me Silvertongue. Natasha can work miracles if you see me as a rational being and not a filthy pest."

"You will always be a filthy pest." His grin widened at her quip. "But now you are like an annoying brother – one I can put up with since we do share some love together at last – love for another, 'tis true, but shared no less for that."

Loki raised one eyebrow. "I do not think brothers and sisters would share the things we do with Natasha." His gaze intensified. "And what if Thor returns to Asgard?"

Sif was annoyed to feel herself blush. "And what of it? He has chosen his new life, and our betrothal is already announced. That chapter of my life is ended."

"Is it?" Loki folded his arms and spread his legs. "And are you quite satisfied with this strange marriage?"

"I am happy to do what I can for Asgard, and well you know it." She claimed one of his hands where it lapped over Natasha's fingers. "I suppose I must admit this - I also enjoy our time together with this lovely mortal."

He nodded and studied Natasha's pale, still face. "This is good – not quite what I had once hoped, but better than ever I dared to imagine for myself." They sat and listened to the sounds of the Palace – a faraway lute accompanied by a bard's husky voice, and the stamp of boots from guards marching in a courtyard below. "May I ask you a question, Sif?"

Her eyes snapped open; she had nearly nodded off. "Yes, but make it quick before I climb under the blankets and go to sleep."

"How does my love for Natasha affect you? Are you angered? Jealous? Or simply exasperated?"

Sif couldn't keep her voice from trembling with laughter. "Those are all dreadful choices. In truth to see you with her gives me hope – it is the best of you, Loki. It makes me think you might have some measure of rational sense."

He gave her a smile, unusual in its tenderness. "Yes, this is good," he repeated. "If we continue thus, I foresee a sort of love between you and me – perhaps the type of affection that grows between those forced together by circumstance who fight for the same ends."

Surprised, Sif touched his hand again. "I can almost imagine it when you speak thus. We both love two things: the glory of Asgard and Natasha."

Loki gestured at the agent with his chin. "Crawl in the sheets with her, and I will watch over you both."

As she lay down and put her arms around Natasha to warm herself, Sif thought she had never heard such admirable words from so unlikely a source.

* * *

"Sylvie!" The name erupted as a shriek. Natasha sat up in the bed, her eyes wide with horror.

Dragged from a recurring dream of spitting a Jotunn with her spear, Sif blinked. "You are safe here with me. And Loki."

Natasha looked around the room, as though to reassure herself she was in a known place, not in the center of her own dream battle. "Thank goodness." She passed one hand over her face. "Sorry to wake you – I have violent nightmares sometimes. You might as well know it now rather than find out about it later."

"All of us do," Loki muttered, one long arm stretched lazily around Natasha's waist. Sif watched as the agent's face brightened before she forced her usual insouciance into her manner with him.

"You are going to have one hell of a sore back tomorrow."

"Let me come in with you in that case." He climbed on top of her, preparing to bite and tease her neck.

Sif thought she might give them some time alone together, but she refused to be kicked out of her room. "For the sake of an old soldier's liver, take yourselves off to Loki's chambers. I want to sleep for ten more hours at least."

Loki instantly murmured compliance, but Natasha felt for Sif's thigh and drew a line up to the place that made her shiver with pleasure. "Oh, no. I'm not leaving you behind – I've been fantasizing about you two all week."

"Well, then." Loki's voice was breathless with laughter and desire. "Perhaps there are some advantages to a small bed after all – we shall be pressed very close together by necessity."

* * *

"Tell us about Sylvie Lushton." Sif sat behind Natasha in Loki's huge bathtub with her legs wound around the girl's waist and applied oil of lemons to her red curls. Gods, was there anything more pleasurable than the sensation of that wet backside pressed against Sif's core? She couldn't help kissing her white flesh, smoothing perfumed soap over the firm breasts.

Loki lounged on the other end of the bath, his long arms spread out on its rim; under the bubbles he was probably tantalizing Natasha's delicious slit. At that thought Sif simply had to see; sure enough, his toes wriggled against those slippery folds. The sensation of his feet and her hands together on the woman they both loved was electric – Sif felt she as though she was stroking her own clit, as she had so many times in the past when time spent in Thor's company left her unfulfilled. For how many centuries had she been pleasuring herself, alone in her bed? Apart from some short affairs she had with a worthy guard or a dashing soldier, there was nothing. And now she was caught in a sinful, exciting game, one she had never imagined for herself: so strange it made her shudder as she and Loki grinned at each other over Natasha's wet ringlets.

Were his feet a zone marked for erotic play? Curious, Sif slid one finger under his heel; when Loki gasped and let his head fall back, eyes slitted with pleasure, she nodded. Yes, indeed they were.

"This feels wonderful." Natasha let her head fall back as well, pillowed on Sif's breasts. "I've been chasing Sylvie's trail across strip malls and trailer parks without much sleep – or food, for that matter."

"I thought you looked more slender than usual." Sif returned to stroking Natasha's breasts, circling the dark nipples with her thumbs. "You sleep with two people at once - we need to fatten you up so there is enough to go around."

With a shout of laughter Loki sat forward. "Agent, what have you done to our warrior maiden? Such jokes and tenderness all at once – I barely know you any longer, Sif."

"Simply recognized the bravery and beauty that was always there." Natasha turned her head to capture Sif's lips in a deep kiss; at that sight Loki got on all fours.

"I want a kiss too."

He pulled her chin; Sif could see his tongue slide into her mouth. Natasha broke the embrace and fixed him with her firm, green gaze. "Why do you never kiss each other, you two? No, don't glare at me like that – go on, give it a try. You're going to be married, after all."

Sif was about to exclaim with annoyance, get out of the bath and get dressed to leave them to it, when Loki sat up and took her face in both hands to capture her mouth. And there was his tongue – well named Silvertongue, she thought dazedly. A tiny whimper escaped her, and she pushed herself more firmly against Natasha's bottom. A pulse started between her legs, making her quiver throughout. When Loki released her she felt warmth spreading over her face and neck.

Natasha's eyes were filled with tears. "Sweetheart, you must not cry!" Sif caressed her slim waist under the water.

"No – I'm not sad." Natasha laughed and swiped her face with soapy fingers. "You look so beautiful together - actually, this is the happiest I've been in a long, long time. Sorry. I didn't mean to get all sentimental and shit."

Seeing that Loki was about to burst forth with a long series of fervent vows, Sif interrupted; she knew Natasha had reached her emotional limit. "Sylvie Lushton. Let us talk about her at length after we are all dressed. I cannot help thinking she is the crux of the affair. All ends lead to Amora and Asgard, but it appears nothing could have been done without the mortal."

With a disappointed sigh, Loki sat back. Under the water Sif felt him resume his caresses to Natasha's legs. "I have tried to banish the enchantress before," he began. "She is too powerful to sweep out of the realm, and too dangerous to suffer in our land. It is the thorniest conundrum I have as AllFather."

"Speaking of Amora, is the opiate cleaned out of Asgard?" Natasha asked.

"The powdered scourge? Loki took care of it."

"I did." A pleased smile settled on his lips. "And Sif has not been idle either – she cleaned the kitchens."

"Hold your tongue! Try and satisfy a host of important visitors without filling their bellies. The kitchens are the heart of any house or palace, if it comes to that."

Natasha chuckled and settled herself more comfortably on Sif's shoulder. "I just don't see why I was brought into the asylum in the first place."

"I am very glad you were." Loki winked at her.

"Yes, but…"

"Were you about to start another quest at the time? Perhaps whoever it was – let us say Amora, for the sake of brevity - wanted you off it and held safely until some foul purpose was accomplished?" Sif hazarded.

"That's a really good point!" Natasha sat up and pulled Sif in for another intimate caress. "You're so intelligent – why didn't I think of it? The thing is I don't remember, but …"

They were interrupted by a servant sidling in the door with an apologetic look in his eye. "I told you we were not to be disturbed!" Loki sat up with a murderous look in his eyes.

"Begging the Allfather's pardon, but I was sent with news that could not wait."

"Well? What is it?" Sif demanded.

"It is the AllFather's brother. Prince Thor has arrived, and he has requested an immediate audience with you and the future Queen." The man bowed and left quickly with his eyes fixed firmly on his feet.

Loki closed his eyes, shook his head. "Impeccable timing, as usual. Some things never do change." He stood up, his erection curling against one thigh and cascades of bubbly water coursing down his legs, but Sif held out one hand.

"Stay a moment. Why should we rush away at the prince's bidding? Let Thor bide his time while we finish what we have started here. I am tired of his attitude that anyone will rush to his side as soon as he crooks one finger."

Natasha turned, startled. "Are you certain? Don't do anything on my account…"

"I am not. It is on _our_ account, all three. Loki, you are ready for her – that much is quite obvious."

He took in a long, unsteady breath. "This new side to you, Sif – it almost unmans me. And I am always ready." Water splashed on the floor as he surged forward, pressing lovebites on Natasha's neck, followed by kisses on Sif's shoulders.

"Fuck, this is so hot," Natasha gasped as he slid inside her and wrapped his arms around Sif's waist, holding them close.

She couldn't help shouting and thrusting up under the pair as they moved against her. Natasha's and Loki's hands reached down to move against Sif's moist center, growing wetter even underwater as the three of them twined in the steam. The words "I love this," were forced out of Sif's throat. Someone kissed her so sweetly tears pricked her eyelids; she had no idea who it was, nor did she care.

"I do too," Natasha moaned before her body shook in a jolting release.

"And I," Loki cried as he arched into her, into their arms, into both of them.


	2. Natasha

**2 Natasha**

* * *

Natasha followed Sif and Loki into the throne room; as he caught her eye his eyes narrowed with lust. In all her years she had never been in such a delicious situation – two lovers at once, both skilled at making her body thrum with pleasure.

Sif went in first and Loki waited to whisper in Natasha's ear. "Stop looking so giddy or I will take you behind the throne and have you again this minute." His eyes slid over her body like perfumed oil. "How can you appear so luscious at each turn? Gods, I just had you and I want you again."

"Go and do your AllFather thing," she cautioned him, although she couldn't stop her lips curving under his intense scrutiny. "And by the way, no need to gloat or be an ass to your brother. Try to be human."

"But I am _not_ human." Loki chanced a quick look and indicated Sif and Thor talking together. "And how can I prevent wearing an air of triumph? I have the loveliest woman in all nine realms to share my bed."

He tried to steal one last kiss, but she avoided it. "Go on." She prodded him into the room.

The other two were already deep in conversation; Thor appeared to be astounded as he listened to Sif talk. "But is this true?" he asked her as Natasha and Loki approached. "You are the future queen?"

"It is not that unimaginable," Sif snapped. Natasha grinned at her sharp tone: _That's my girl._

"Hey, Thor." Natasha pulled him in for a quick hug; she always enjoyed Thor's full-body embrace. "Wassup?"

"Wassup?" He grinned and stuck out his tongue. "Natasha taught me that greeting and response during my time on Midgard," he added.

"Was - sup." Sif repeated the word carefully. "Is it an incantation?"

"Shall we stand here like buffoons?" Loki's nostrils flared, and the white line above his lips tightened.

Casting a glance around the group, Natasha thought it was time to get things on a more relaxed level. "I could really use another tankard of ale – unless you're only supposed to drink mead or wine in a throne room."

A smiled tugged at Loki's lips and he gestured to a servant. "Bring us ale."

"And food." Thor's voice rose as he called out after the departing servant. "I miss eating a real roast," he added. "Meat on Midgard is good, but different." Silence greeted this statement, and he cleared his throat. "Perhaps we could sit down together?"

Natasha shrugged and plunked her butt down on the steps of the dais; it wasn't fancy, but it worked. Loki needed to buy a few LazyBoys or at least a decent couch, she reflected - unless he liked having his visitors stand in front of the throne while he reclined in splendor. She snuck a look at him as he crossed his arms and tilted up his chin, brows knitted in dark concentration. Yes, that was probably the _exact_ sort of thing he would like.

A few seconds later Sif joined her, followed more slowly by Thor and Loki. "How are things on Midgard?" she asked.

Thor darted a look at Loki. "To be honest, I find life on your realm confusing. Jane was very patient, but of course she has her own work and cannot give as much time she would like – or I need – to help acclimate me to a new world."

"Are you returning to us with your tail between your legs, in that case?"

"Loki!" Sif and Natasha spoke at the same time.

But Thor merely nodded. "'Tis much the truth of it. We have decided to take a spell apart, before my own confusion turned to bitter argument. And I missed you all – and the palace." He heaved a huge sigh. "But of course things are much changed here as well. Perhaps I am caught without a realm to call my own - a melancholy feeling."

"It was your own choice," Loki started, but Sif interrupted.

"You of all people can relate, if you think before you speak for once." Sif leaned back on the step and considered Thor where he sat with knees wide, his head and both hands hanging down.

"How goes the realm?" Thor asked.

"Well enough. It takes a great deal of work and sensibility. _And_ sensitivity, something quite foreign to your nature." Loki's cheekbones seemed to grow more prominent as he spoke.

Natasha bit back any number of responses: _Listen to your lying ass... You were doing a crappy job two months ago... It's thanks to Sif that Asgard has started to come back from the brink of disaster..._ Instead she leaned forward to speak to Thor. "Any news from SHIELD?"

"We solved several cases in your absence. Still, the quest at the asylum lies unfulfilled – 'tis a most tangled affair."

"Right?" Her cheeks warmed with interest. "Loki gave me some great leads, but I still can't figure it all out. It's my first order of business as soon as I get back."

"Do not rush away just yet." Loki's tone was light, but the intensity of his gaze gave him away. _You might as well just grab my tits right in front of everyone!_ Natasha thought.

With a rush of relief, she seized a large tankard of ale as a servant entered and offered a tray. Thor took one as well and drank quickly, his throat moving above the edge of his metal collar. "Ah! That is good." He forked a slab of roast onto an offered plate, cut off a piece the size of New Jersey. His eyes closed with delight as he started to chew, .

"I see your appetites are no less since your sojourn." Loki waved away the offered tray of meat; the toe of his boot edged to touch Natasha's shoe.

"AllFather, may I ask for a favor?" Sif put down her tankard.

"What is it?"

"May I walk with Thor apace and speak to him?"

"Why should you want to do that?"

Natasha put her hand on Loki's arm. "Perhaps you could take me to Midgard and look at the Lushton case while these two chat about old times. It would be a huge help, as I said – I've run into a dead end."

* * *

"Is he trying to win back Sif and the throne a moment after he reappears in Asgard?" Loki was already in a lather of bad temper when they appeared in Natasha's apartment. "Such a heavy, graceless fool, and yet women fall over themselves to reach his bed! By the Gods, I will not have it!"

"Not this woman." She tugged his arm. "Nor Sif either – they are friends, nothing more." Loki's temper came not from jealousy, she knew that much, but his constant desire to hold what he considered his.

"I would be a fool myself if I ever thought Sif lost her love for my brother." Despite his tantrum he allowed himself to be towed to her couch. "She has been pining for him during the span of centuries."

"Of course that's beyond my comprehension - I don't have the same concept of time as you and Sif." Natasha opened her laptop and pulled up the reports from Karnilla and the asylum cases. "Yet another good reason to marry her…"

"Enough about my marriage," Loki shouted. "I am thoroughly tired of the subject."

She measured him for a moment. "I beg your pardon."

He thrust out his long legs, crossed them at the ankles, and leaned back to regard the ceiling. "We were happy in the bath before _he_ had to appear and ruin it all."

"Nothing is ruined, you know." Impulsively Natasha lifted his hand to her lips, and he moved it to cup and caress her cheek. "It was so lovely – the three of us."

"And now? Do you think the two of us can be as happy when we are alone together?"

She felt a bubble of laughter escape. "Loki, you and I have never had any trouble in that department."

A long curl of breath heavy with relief escaped his mouth, and he grasped her waist. "By the Nine, this is true. Sif could run to Thor, the realm could choose him as AllFather, but as long as I have you…"

The conversation had turned too potent for her liking. "Thanks to your little tattoo on my thigh, you always know where to find me. Now, will you review the files on my laptop?"

* * *

They ended up stretched out on the couch, Natasha between his legs and her head thrown back on his chest. It was easier, Loki insisted, to read the file that way; naturally he took the opportunity to stroke her thighs whenever he could. "Look at this," she said, ignoring his brazen caresses. "Sylvie Lushton was a normal person – all her files add up to a very ordinary life. She lived in Broxton, Oklahoma and had a job there - a boyfriend, too. Just got a small raise before she disappeared."

"I would assumed that is illogical," Loki said.

"You're right, it is. You'd expect her to go on a shopping trip to the mall, or have drinks with friends to celebrate, but her credit card purchases cease abruptly after that. Next she reappears on Karnilla, employed by Jeremy Briggs as a subcontractor. But when I worked there I never saw her, not until Sif and I returned. By that time the rig was deserted except for us and Sylvie. Oh, and two decapitated heads, but that was only to be expected – Agnija and Rostislav were assholes."

Loki chuckled and pushed her curls over one shoulder to blow gently in her ear. "I love when you become as bloodthirsty as a Viking. And what was Sylvie like when you saw her?"

"Distraught. Difficult to comprehend. She said she was sick and growing sicker."

"What were her exact words - can you recall?"

Natasha thought for a moment. "It sounded like something from a Dungeons and Dragons fiction: 'This shadow flits between the realms and has no home.' It was such a strange statement I memorized it."

He nodded. "It sounds as though she was possessed by another – very dark magic indeed. There is only one other who can accomplish it."

"Other than you?"

"Yes."

"Amora?"

"Yes."

"Son of a bitch." Natasha opened the asylum files. "Everything keeps leading back to her. And as for the asylum – I still can't figure that one out. I know I keep saying that over and over, but it's true."

He leaned forward, his fascination switching from her neck to the screen. "Can you bring up both of those information boxes? The sequence of events within the asylum and the Lushton mortal's lifespan?"

Natasha centered the files side by side. "There's nothing here that shows any connection…"

"Except the dates." Loki pointed at the screen. "Look at the date of her disappearance and when the asylum opened for business."

They were close enough to warrant investigation. "Dr. Holmes's little mind palace is closed off by SHIELD, but I suppose I can get back in and look around in a few weeks," Natasha mused.

"Damnation!" Loki smacked the wall with his fist, causing a large crack and a trickle of plaster. "I want to accompany you, but instead I must attend the council meetings on the trade between Alfheim and Vanaheim, as well as a host of royal duties. There is no other choice - I will tell them I cannot attend them so I can be with you instead."

"Are they still arguing about that?" Natasha snickered. "Sheesh, and I thought the Middle East conflict was bad. Still, no worries – you've got to do your AllFather thing - don't even think of bagging your duties to be my protector or some shit like that. I'll go in, find what I need, and bring it to Asgard."

"Wait for me in that case." His hands closed around her wrists.

"No way. I really need to get in there as soon as I get clearance or Clint can sneak me in. Amora is a powerful opponent, and I want to keep on top of anything she has planned before it escalates."

"All the more reason to wait for me. I am the one being who can protect you against her."

"I don't need protection," Natasha insisted, "and your grip is pretty tight. Please don't actually break the bones in my hand or I'll have to break out my Widow's Bites."

"Ridiculous! If I spoke thus you would tell me I was in a 'pissing contest'."

"You have no idea how many enemies I have faced down. And defeated." She tapped her forehead. "The real strength lies up here, you know."

Loki closed his eyes and shook his head. "Gods, it is as though I am arguing with myself. Almost I begin to have some sympathy for Thor. Just promise me one thing – inform me or Sif before you travel anywhere. I want to know your location at all times."

A few more grains of plaster trickled down the wall. "Very well," Natasha agreed. "I'm not rushing off anywhere just yet. But if I get an unexpected lead, I may have to chase it down. It's the nature of the job." He opened his mouth to argue, but she clicked on another file. "Look at this – Bruce has been analyzing the lithium you and I were given in the asylum. Its hexameric structure is the same, but the compound has been intensified – see how there are three of them?I would say it's chemically impossible to manufacture."

His hawked nose twitching with interest, Loki leaned closer. "And so the effects would be strong enough to overcome your super serum – and my own physique."

His intelligence made her heart beat faster; of its own volition her arm reached up to cup the back of his neck, pull him closer. His breath mingled with hers. "I want to get a sample of the opiate powder from Asgard for Bruce's lab. Can you do that for me?"

"Perhaps." Firmly he closed her laptop, turned her to lie on top of him, and sucked a particularly tender spot on her neck. "Come to bed with me for the night and I will consider it."

"Do you really deserve it?" Natasha was determined not to give in to her desires. "After all, you just cracked my wall."

Loki pushed up her shirt and thumbed her nipples under her bra. "Be glad I do not pulverize your dwelling when you refuse me as your guard, Agent."

"I don't…"

He thrust up between her legs, brushing her Kenaz rune with his swollen prick. The feeling from the mark blossomed into a series of quivers running up her thighs, making her clit throb unmercifully. "One night."

"You bastard, using your erotic magic on me." She caught his throat in her hand and gritted her teeth. "Just wait until I get you back for that - I really think I will break out those Bites now."

"I cannot wait any longer." Loki pushed himself up from the couch with her in his arms and strode towards her bed. "We are going to start this instant."

"Hey..." Natasha's protest was cut off as he kissed her mercilessly; a moment later he kicked her bedroom open. The door swung on one hinge before splintering and falling to the floor with a loud crash. "Hey!" she repeated.

"What is it?" Loki smiled benignly as they fell on the bed.

"Several things. My door, and my wall. No, seriously - I'm getting out the Bites and the Kisses."

"Oooh, the Bites and Kisses. Excellent."

She sat on his chest and bit one earlobe, ignoring his protest. "First you seduce me with magic, and then..."

"I did no such thing." Loki slid his fingers over her thigh and traced Kenaz; the feeling in her clit increased, as though a moth was imprisoned there between her thighs. "Now, this is seduction with magic." With one lazy wave her clothes disappeared and he resumed tracing his mark. "Shall I conjure several apparitions of myself to pleasure you - would you like that, Agent?"

Natasha imagined three or four Lokis at once, all reaching for her. It made the breath hitch in her throat, but she shook her head. "Not to get all feely and stuff, but all I really need is you."

"Oh..." His voice became a whisper, and he rolled her underneath him. She turned away, not wanting things to get too intimate, but firmly he forced her to face him with one finger under her chin. "Agent, if I am betrothed to Sif, what does that make us?"

"Hm." She grinned. "Lovers, of course, but I suppose I'm the royal mistress. Not such a bad deal, actually - I always liked Madame Pompadour. She was smart as hell and beautiful as sin."

"Is sin beautiful?"

Pulling him up for a kiss, Natasha nodded. "Of course it is, or it wouldn't be so seductive."

"Well reasoned." Loki braced himself above her, deepened the kiss, and carefully slid his erect length against her vibrating core. Her body responded, as it always did, with a series of shocks and a rush of fluid; Natasha gasped as the head caught her clit and slid between her legs. "He knows just where she lives," he whispered.

"He?" Natasha bit his lower lip.

"That impudent fellow between my legs - now between yours as well." His smile widened. "And if you are my mistress, you must tell me what to do. I spend my days ordering people about - now it is your turn."

"In that case, employ that tongue of yours. Get me thoroughly ready for you, and I want to taste myself on your lips when you fuck me." Natasha pushed him down; his long hair trailed over her stomach and tickled her thighs. As he spread her with his fingers and tasted her, interspersing teasing flickers with full licks from clit to core. The sensation built under his knowing, wicked mouth and inside as well, until she screamed and bent back, shaking with her release.

He gave her no time to recover, already prowling back to lie between her legs. Wet as she was, his shaft slipped between her lower lips easily. They both groaned as he eased himself inside, pushing slowly, inch by delicious inch, until he was fully sheathed within before resuming the same rhythm - teasing her with shallow thrusts and full, sudden plunges within. Just as she thought she couldn't take it, Loki's fingers spread over Kenaz, and her entire body seemed to light on fire.

"Damn you fucker bastard what are you doing fuck me now fuck me Loki..." she gabbled and spread her hands on his chest, scratching her Perthro mark. Instantly he reared up, breath hissing between his teeth.

"Mistress."

The one word made her come apart again, in his arms and around him, the walls shivering around that hard length, feeling him spurt in turn to make her wet warmth even wetter and ... ohhhhh, god, it was divine. Staring into each other's eyes, they fell back among the pillows. Grasping for skin, wrestling to be even closer, churning in there. Yes, that wonderful feeling inside had to be her cunt, right? _Not_ anything else.

"Mistress," Loki repeated, and touched her eyelids with kisses soft as a lost dream in the night.


	3. 3 Sif

**3 Sif**

* * *

"I do not understand," Thor said again. He stood by a bridge overlooking the tributary, his hands clasped loosely, his eyes on the horizon. "You and Loki betrothed! The two of you were always fighting. Always enemies. You have a noble soul, Sif, but if there was anyone I would have chosen as your nemesis it would have been him."

Thinking of the bath she had shared earlier with his brother and Natasha, Sif couldn't help a quick grimace. "I may not have so noble a soul as you think."

His face lit with laughter; he was still quick to mirth even after those past years of downfall from golden prince to prodigal brother. "Nay! Say not so – you were ever the first onto steed when we rode into battle together."

Sif retreated as he reached for a strand of her hair to touch. "Was that why you encouraged me to battle from the start? I never would have been a warrior if it had not been for you."

He let go of the strand and leaned back against the wall on one elbow. "And well I remember it – a young girl, legs spindly as a colt…"

"A colt!" Sif threw her head back with laughter, and her heart lightened as Thor joined in. She knew she was dallying with him, but for one soaring moment she didn't care. "That does not sound very promising."

"On the contrary, you were strong. Brave. Entirely lovely from the first."

Her smile faltered, and his face grew serious. Sif's heart beat faster – she knew if she made a movement towards him Thor would grasp her in a long kiss. _And why now? _she couldn't help asking herself. Many times during each Odinsleep she had given him chances to have her, and always he slipped away before she could tell what lay in her heart.

_Am I nothing more than a trophy?_ The light in Thor's eyes – was it born of her new status as Loki's betrothed?

And so she was the one who turned away. "What do you say we go to the tavern later? We could wear hoods over our faces as we did before you went on your quest for the Sword of Surtur, so no one will recognize us."

"But you are the Queen…"

"Not yet." Sif clapped him on the arm, restoring their intercourse to its usual friendly terms. "Let us steal one night for storytelling and strong ale."

* * *

Late afternoon light filtered in through the pillars when Sif awoke in her narrow bed: on her own, thank the Gods. The rounds of drinks had mellowed the conversation between her and Thor, and several times she caught a warm glint in his eyes as he watched her. In the end she told him she was visiting the women's garderobes outside; once she left the tavern's room she vaulted onto her horse and galloped back to the palace. As she thundered across fields silvered by the moons overhead, Sif couldn't help picturing Thor's look of concern, comprehension, and final hurt when he realized she would not return to him that night. The thought of his reaction to her abandonment nearly made her rein in the horse and return to the inn.

However, if she had not left when she did they might have ended in one of the rooms above, rolling among the fleas and straw of a two-pence bed. Fine behavior for the future Queen it would have been, especially one who wanted to reform the morality within the palace! Still, when the back of his hand accidentally brushed hers, and when their feet bumped under the table, a thrill like an electric shock had shot through her. It seemed Thor was a habit she couldn't easily break.

Thinking of her long list of chores, Sif rose, washed, and dressed quickly. A scroll of notes in her hand, she marched down to the main entrance and stopped. In the hall there were at least twenty men and women busy with their mops and brooms as they cleaned the floors and polished the shields affixed to the walls. Several builders also worked on the smashed columns, and as her mouth opened in disbelief, a delivery of stone was delivered on a floating cart using the new Dark Elf machinery.

"Who has ordered all this?" she asked one of the ladies scrubbing the floor.

"The AllFather, milady." She spoke with a broad Plains brogue. "Iffen finish by week's end 'tis praise all round and extra coins in our pockets."

Sif raised one eyebrow and nodded. "I see, and I shall sweeten the pot. Finish by morrow's end and I shall double the pay."

"Aye, milady!" The woman was about to return to her scrubbing brush with renewed vigor, but she hesitated. "Art tha' looking for summat? 'Tis already in your possession, if you think on't."

"I beg your pardon?" Sif was astonished.

"Sorry, milady." The woman shook her head. "I have a touch of the Sight, 'tis said, and it speaks through me sometimes. Seems this be one of those times."

* * *

Outside, a host of gardeners sawed down ruined trees and prepared new shoots for planting. More rubble was being swept aside. A burly worker stopped when Sif approached, wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and indicated a broad stretch of land. "'Tis the new gardens to commemorate the Queen, Valkyries keep her soul. 'Twill be filled with roses and lanterns, according to directions."

"And this comes from the AllFather?" Sif shaded her eyes against the late afternoon sun; winter was drawing to a close and the light grew stronger as the days increased. She imagined a line of gardens filled with flowers and lit by lanterns; the thought made her throat close with the beauty of it.

"Aye." He picked up his shovel but paused to give her a shrewd look. "You are t'future queen?"

"I am."

A pleased grin split his dusty face. "Ah. Good. 'Twill ease our hearts to have sense on the throne, sad as we are for Queen Frigga."

"I can never be like her, you understand…"

He shook his head. "Nay. But you bring great strength and courage, which we need in Asgard. The Lady Sif is much admired in my village and throughout t'realm."

Sif nodded, felt in her pocket, and emptied her pockets to give him the coins left from those rounds of ale in the tavern. She didn't trust herself to speak.

* * *

The guards at Loki's chambers willingly let her inside. Sif wanted to express her thanks and admiration for all he had accomplished; with the amount of work already in progress she could turn to the garrisons and other projects close to her heart.

Natasha already lay across his bed, writing in a leather-bound notebook. She looked up, smiled, and stowed her pen in the pages before she held out her arms. "Hey! I didn't expect to see you just yet." Sif meant to give her a quick hug, but Natasha pulled her onto the bed and kissed her cheeks, one after the other. "There – that is a very Russian greeting," she laughed.

Sif flopped back on the pillows and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "I meant to get ahead of myself today, but somehow I slept in. It has to stop – from now on I am determined to be diligent."

Natasha nodded. "I understand – there's a buttload of work that's about to hit my desk too. Still, give yourself a break. The rumors are you have already accomplished plenty." She leaned over Sif, opened a drawer of the table by the bed, and withdrew a cut-glass vial filled with oil. "Here, roll over – I'm going to give you a massage."

"No. I am not used to such things. You really do not need – ohhhhhh, Baldur's buttocks. That feels amazing." Sif felt her entire body loosen as Natasha worked her muscles with strong, firm hands. "Thor and I ended up at the tavern," she added.

"Oh?"

"Yes. And I am fairly certain he seeks my bed."

"Of course he is – anyone with eyes would." Natasha kneaded the tense muscles under Sif's shoulder blades before adding, "And you're wondering _Why now_, is that it?"

Sif lifted her head. "Exactly! Why would he wait until I am betrothed to finally show some interest?" She propped her chin on her hands. "Men are strange creatures."

"And don't I know it? But I think you represent safety for Thor. Obviously he's looking for his own place in the realms, and until last night he had nothing. If you were talking about old times…"

"Which we were…"

"There you go. You're a haven of normality for him in a confused universe. Not to mention, dudes always like to go panting after what they can't have. Don't ask me why – I don't get it either. But you're forbidden fruit - plus you make him laugh and forget his troubles. That's a lethal combination."

Sif covered her face and groaned. "Why could it not have happened earlier before he thought of sauntering off to Jotunheim? We could have been…"

"Happy?" Natasha put the stopper in the bottle, leaned over and brushed Sif's hair from her neck. "It sounds like you and Thor need to work things out or there'll be a whole bunch of sexual tension in the palace, and that's always bad."

Rolling onto her back, Sif pulled Natasha into a tight embrace. "What am I to do?"

"I can't tell you how to make your decision. I _can_ help you with the sexual tension, though."

Naturally, Loki chose that moment to enter the room, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. "Natasha, I … oh!"

Obviously he expected some time alone with his mistress. Sif rose on one elbow, prepared to vault off the bed. "We were just talking, Loki, but I can leave. I need to get back to my chores in any case."

"Oh, no." Natasha tugged her neck and kissed Sif on the mouth; as always, those full lips were delicious, soft, firm on her own. She couldn't help a little moan of delight in response. "By the way, ever notice how you mention sex or alcohol and Loki appears? It's like magic." She flicked her tongue over Sif's neck.

"Perhaps it is magic," he snickered. The bed shifted as he climbed onto the mattress and crawled towards them, a look of pure mischief on his face. "Certainly if there is drinking or fucking going on I want to be a part of it."

"As a matter of fact, Silvertongue, I came here to compliment you on all you have done in the palace. The gardens you planned for for Queen Frigga are truly beautiful."

His smile disappeared as Loki grew completely serious; Natasha crossed her legs at the ankles and thoughtfully wound a curl around one finger. "Well done, both of you," she said. "As a matter of fact, I think you deserve a reward."

"Ah." Instantly Loki reached for her, but she pushed him aside.

"No." Natasha shook her head decisively. "This evening is all about Sif, since she had a bit of a rough night last night. I'm off limits."

"What?" Gaping with astonishment, Loki sat straight up.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? Sif could use the high stiff one, and you're the best cocksman in the business."

"I do not know about this!"

"It will not stand!"

Loki and Sif spoke at once; laughing, Natasha moved away on the large bed. "Oh, please," she said. "Look at her, Loki – so brave and beautiful. Go on, show her how desirable she is."

"I am right here," Sif growled, to cover the flutters in her stomach. Certainly she felt nothing for Loki beyond a sense of duty, but the thought of having an erect prick inside her for once made everything between her legs flutter: lips, clit, and the little puss she had hidden away for countless years.

"You are indeed brave, Sif, but I…" Loki began.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Pathetic." Natasha bit Sif's neck, and felt for one breast. Smoothly she ran her tongue down to where the shift lay open and began to undo the buttons; Loki watched intently as they moved together. "I'm going to get things started this once, but I expect better in the future between you two." She pushed up the short skirt of the armor, and at the sensation of fingers against her clit Sif started to pull off her clothes. She was shaking with lust.

The interval at the tavern and the oil rubbed onto her skin combined to heat her blood to boiling. Natasha knelt between her thighs, licked the flesh there until it was peaked and trembling, so close to release Sif's thighs trembled.

"Now, have a taste." Natasha kissed Loki on his lips; Sif could see the gleam of her own juices as their mouths met. "She's delicious, right?" Her lips trailed down his chest, and he flung his head back as she found his erection and sucked on the tip, nearly purple with desire.

"Natasha!" His fingers buried in her hair, but she released him and sat back.

"That's all you get. Do you need a lesson of how to achieve the rest?"

Sif couldn't help reaching for it – that erect, throbbing prick, slicked with Natasha's ministrations. At that Loki knelt between her legs and pushed to the entrance. It was a warm, dangerous possibility – Silvertongue himself, about to breach her.

"Go on," Natasha whispered. She kissed Sif again.

"Natasha!" Loki shouted again and drove inside. Sif gasped and looked at him – his eyes were wide with surprise, as she knew her own were. Oh, the sensation – so large, so hard in that hidden place. It had been secret for far too long.

Dimly she felt Natasha try to leave, perhaps to give them a few moments, but Loki shot out his arm and held her. "Stay," he growled.

"Stay," Sif echoed. "It does not work without you – oh!"

Loki drove inside with another thrust, and she tilted her hips to meet him. Natasha's hair fell over Sif's face as the agent kissed her, mimicking his action with her tongue.

"Kiss me too," Loki demanded. Natasha reached for him and complied; Sif could see their mouths move in wanton abandon - lips, teeth, tongue.

"Natasha – you spoke the truth," she gasped. "You look so beautiful together. It makes me – ah!" A series of electric shocks ran through her body, making her pummel Loki's hips with her own.

"Now I'm really going to blow both your minds." Natasha knelt and tongued their bodies where they were joined, licking slit and cock at the same time. The feeling combined with what Loki was doing to her made Sif scream; at that moment Loki shouted and slammed into her. Sif felt the hot rush of his spending and lost all control. A third orgasm hit her and she fell back among the pillows, tears pouring from her eyes.

"Oh," she whimpered.

Natasha plunked next to her, overcome with laughter. "That was fantastic!" she crowed when she regained her breath. "It's such a kick to make a woman come. And a man at the same time – damn, I'm goooooood."

Sif panted and laughed, both at once. "Gods," was all she managed to say.

Loki landed on the other side of her. "Gods," he echoed. His own mirth bubbled against Sif's belly as he reached to poke Natasha, making her giggle afresh. "You little minx! You voluptuous vixen! Why did I not meet you centuries ago? Your talents – Amora herself would weep if she heard how skilled you are in bed."

"I wasn't alive centuries ago, for one thing…" Natasha's words were eclipsed by more laughter.

Smiling wearily, Sif felt slumber steal over her. It had been good – much-needed - and Natasha was generous beyond her comprehension. With one hand she felt for her friend's thigh, to touch the warm skin and keep her close as they all slid into sleep.

However, she had to admit that as she and Loki made love, it was Thor's face she pictured. Natasha's tongue had brought her sweet release, but the god of thunder was firmly in her mind.


	4. 4 Natasha

**4. Natasha**

* * *

Sif's breathing slowed and grew even; Natasha pulled the sheets over the elegant body, slack only in slumber, so she would stay warm. On the other side of her Loki slept as well, one arm curled around Sif's waist.

When she was certain they both couldn't hear, Natasha whispered a secret that had been brewing inside her for a while. The feeling had built so slowly she didn't know when it started, but she could no longer deny it, lying there in bed as the light outside turned to purple and orange. She gazed around the twilit room, thinking she had grown used to the huge chambers - now they almost seemed like home.

Loki's fingers slid over hers, claiming them in a gentle embrace. She raised her head and he gestured with his other hand; Natasha slipped out of the bed, determined not to wake Sif.

"Will you come with me to our safe house?" he whispered.

"Yes, very well." The robe he handed her was made of velvet and trimmed with precious stones; it tied around her nakedness and hugged her like a dress.

Outside, the guards were kneeling down, engaged in a game of dice. Loki uttered a few sharp words in what sounded like Norse; instantly the men stood and saluted him with their broadswords. "The next time I catch you thus on duty it will be your heads! Come, Natasha, away from these idiots." He felt for her hand and pulled her after him.

They rounded a corner and ran full tilt into Amora, arm-in-arm with Hodur as usual. "You must have it!" she was hissing into his ear.

"No," the youth muttered. "I told you the last time I saw it..." He stopped as Amora hushed him with a scathing look.

Loki merely smiled pleasantly. "Enchantress, I hope nothing is amiss."

"Other than your bedtime antics with two women at once? The entire palace knows of it – and is sickened by your behavior."

"Now what sickens them exactly?" Loki's tone was silky with danger. "Jealousy, I presume?"

Her only response was a toss of her head, one slitted glance in Natasha's direction, and a sharp tug on Hodur's sleeve.

Loki waited until the two were out of sight before opening the little hidden staircase. "I see she has left the collar and leash in her chambers this time," he whispered in Natasha's ear.

She climbed up the narrow steps and sighed with pleasure; the safe house was like a luxurious secret all the more valuable for being rare. "I love coming here," she said as Loki joined her by the window.

"Yes, I know you do." His voice was vague; obviously he had something on his mind. "Natasha, I…" With a sudden motion he pulled her close and backed her against the wall to press his tall length against her. His hand cradled her head to his chest, his face buried into her neck. "You have … that was… Natasha, there are no words for what just happened in our bed. I only wish you would allow me to tell you how precious you are to me."

Tears trembled on her lashes; quickly she swiped at them with one sleeve. "Oops! Sorry. Don't want to cry all over your robe. It probably costs more than I could make in several lifetimes."

"Forget the damn robe. It is yours." Loki put his hands on either side of her face and tilted it up. "What would you say if I shared the throne with Thor?"

She struggled to maintain her composure. "What? But this is your ambition! You wanted to become the AllFather – save Asgard from itself – create new worlds of possibilities between the realms – you have only just begun! And with Sif at your side…"

"…Thinking of Thor. During our little interlude just now he was on her mind." Firmly he pressed his lips on hers, again and again as though he never wanted to stop. "Meanwhile, I think of you. No – do not stop me. I think of the missions you go on, throwing your life into the balance with no thought to your own safety. It would destroy me if anything happened to you." Another kiss, this one on her forehead; she could feel his lips and teeth as he spoke against her skin. "If I gave my brother a share of the rule of all nine realms, I could at least be with you more often. We could..."

"No. Don't do this." Natasha felt her lips trembled. God, she was about to break into tears like a kid! "We already had this fight – _please_ don't, Loki. I can't be separated from you again. I just can't. It nearly killed me last time."

He laughed, one short, desperate sound. "That terrible day I promised you not to speak of marriage again, and I will not. But I could work with you, Natasha. I will lend you my magic for whatever you need. And if you run into unforeseen danger, I would be there to – no, I will not say protect you. I would be there to help you."

Her entire frame loosened. It was the loveliest thing she had ever been offered, and she knew exactly what it cost him. For one instant she wished they had never slept together so she could pay him with the gift of her kisses and bed him for the first time. In the next second she knew exactly how to tell him how much it meant to her, but could she do it? Such a thing was so difficult – it had been trained out of her years ago.

Obviously the training had, at last, been compromised.

As she hesitated the moment passed. "Do not look so frightened." Loki smiled sadly and brushed a curl behind her ear. "I will not beg you or banish you again."

Natasha sighed and kissed him, willing her unspoken words onto her lips like forgotten lyrics to an old song; perhaps he could taste them if she was unable to speak. "This is the nicest gift you've ever given me," she said, "and I'm not talking about the robe, you know - gorgeous as it is. But I can't rip you away from your life's dream. I just can't. I'll be really careful – and I'll check everything before I go rushing in. And I'll let you know, somehow, where I'll be. Maybe Thor can come along on the case – it will stop him panting after your fiancée, for one thing."

"No!" Loki pushed her away to arms' length, murder in his face. "If _I_ do not go, _he_ will certainly not take my place."

She groaned. "I only meant as a safeguard – but have it your way. That's fine. Maybe once you get things settled a bit you can even join me." Outside the window the usual snow fell, part of Loki's magic. The rest of Asgard lay warm under spring skies. "You know, I love the snowflakes you create – the sight of them makes me feel as though I'm in a little bubble with you."

"It is not reality, Agent, merely an illusion – like many things." He spoke lightly, but she felt the intensity trembling in his frame as he reached into one pocket and withdrew a tiny vial filled halfway with grains of powder.

"Is this what I think it is?" Natasha took the vial and examined it.

He nodded and closed her fingers around it.

With a deep breath, she abandoned her own careful, suspicious nature – telling herself it was only for a few stolen moments. "I don't care if this is all an illusion. Let's make it our reality, just for a little bit."

* * *

Natasha arrived back on Midgard with a list of ideas. After sending the vial to Bruce's lab, she went over the files from the asylum and Karnilla once more to zero in on anything mentioning Sylvie Lushton. There was precious little other than a C.V., a few HR reports, and a short essay written in a round hand by Sylvie herself on a job application. It betrayed a neat grasp on grammar and above-average intelligence but nothing out of the ordinary.

An exhaustive search through SHIELD's intranets brought up the usual useless information: high school grades, class pictures, a few mentions in a hometown newspaper when Sylvie scored double goals for her field hockey team.

Natasha's pencil flashed over her notebook. _Athletic. Intelligent. Abundantly normal._ She dropped her pencil and groaned – it felt as though she was getting nowhere.

_Think, Romanov. What could Amora's modus operandi be? Say I'm a powerful enchantress. I want Thor and I want him on the throne, but his brother is in my way. In order to get what I want I set up a plan – one convoluted enough to avoid suspicion. I trap Loki in a sheltered asylum. For unclear reasons I put two SHIELD agents inside as well. I need to keep watch, so I have the usual security cameras – but I want complete control. The idiot running the asylum is insane himself, so I allow him to keep the scraps while I wait for my plans to mature. Meanwhile, I incapacitate those who are about to discover my next steps…_

Natasha remembered something – a suggestion Sif had given her in the bath. She jumped and reached for her phone. "Maria?" she said without preamble. "Just out of curiosity, were you about to send me on a case before we were taken to the asylum?"

"I'd have to look it up. One moment." Maria's voice was toneless as usual; after the terrible affair at the hospital the woman had returned to her constant level of brisk efficiency. "Yes, here it is. You were about to head to Briggs Chemical LLC in Oklahoma. The situation there resolved itself, however, while we were kidnapped, and the case was shut down."

"Briggs! Are you serious? Was that really the name?"

"Yes, why?"

Jeremy Briggs had been Sylvie Lushton's employer on Karnilla. Natasha felt the usual flutter of excitement when a case started to come together. "Do me a favor and send me those files?"

"They were destroyed. The Council themselves determined a breach of security and possible legal complications."

"Maria." Natasha's voice dropped. "Are you telling me you really destroyed every copy of those files?"

Her phone hissed gently. On the other end she overheard someone at a nearby desk singing a few lines of 'Amazing'. "I may have one paper copy," Maria admitted.

"I'll be over in five minutes to get that folder."

* * *

File in hand, Natasha leafed through the background on Briggs Chemical. It was a multinational corporation with all sorts of lofty mission statements: improving the world through alternative means and creating a new moral mindset. Reading them put Natasha on high alert: the vague mumbo jumbo sounded like classic rationalization for a rash of bullshit. As she went over them again, a message popped up in her email – preliminary results from the lab on the substance Loki had given her.

Her ears popped slightly – a sudden change in atmosphere. With a grin, she said, "Damn, I'm glad you're here! I wanted to go over these ideas with you…"

Her words died out. Instead of Loki, it was Thor who had appeared inside her apartment.

"Lady Natasha." He bowed and added, "Wassup?"

"Wassup?" She was pleased, as always, to see him; Thor seemed to carry his own lightened atmosphere wherever he turned. "Are you back for good?"

"Actually, I wanted to speak with you if I may."

"Sure." Natasha closed the Briggs Chemical file and gestured to a chair; cautiously he subsided in it.

"I believe it will hold," he added with one quick glance at her.

Natasha spluttered with laughter. "You owe me new furniture if it doesn't."

"I wish to speak with you about Sif and Loki. Their engagement seems so out of place – so unexpected. Could you explain it to me?"

"Yes. I engineered the entire thing, as it happens."

"You!" Thor frowned. "Why?"

"Quite simple, really – I refused to marry Loki when he proposed to me. Once we had that little argument – I'm sure you can imagine how graciously your brother took my refusal - Amora swooped in and got her claws into him, and the entire kingdom sank into dissolution. Meanwhile, Sif and I teamed up on a case, and her brilliant intelligence and bravery struck me. It seemed to me she was exactly what your realm needed on the throne." Natasha twiddled her pen and sat back.

His gaze turned to a far corner. "Ever did my father say the same things you tell me now. He cautioned me to see what was right in front of me, and I did not listen." His face crinkled with amusement. "But there is more than that, is there not? It seems to me there is a great deal of sex going on in the Palace, and Loki is the one profiting from it. I knew as soon as I saw you together in the throne room."

"Oh." An uncharacteristic blush suffused her face. She didn't know why, but Thor had always struck her as innocent; patently it was an absurd notion. His very voice carried layers of testosterone-driven biology; probably he had bedded more lovers than she could ever imagine. "Look…"

"I will not deny I have had my share of lovemaking throughout the ages. In fact, nary a kitchen maid was safe from the Odinson brothers when we were growing up. Mother was constantly shouting at us for it."

Natasha checked a sigh; the very last thing she wanted to do was hear about Thor's romantic interests. "I suppose you're asking me if Sif and Loki are involved in a true engagement. The short answer is yes: they have already consummated the impending marriage."

"I see." Thor rose and turned his back on her as he clenched and unclenched his fists. "Have you ever felt like a fool? I was always taunting Loki – women chased me so often, and he had to use his tongue and wiles to win them to his side. But now it seems things have reversed their course."

"Thor, are you really spending your time worrying about finding a girlfriend? Because there are quite a few who would probably line up for a chance…" A thought struck her. "You haven't been approached by Amora, have you?"

He wheeled around. "No, thank the Gods. Why do you ask?"

"No, nothing. It's a case I was working with Loki, and it is possible Amora was involved."

"Will you tell me the tale? I have nothing to do, and a quest would be very welcome. I will jump out of my skin if I have to stand aside and watch Loki and Sif together in Asgard."

Natasha could hear the desire in his voice. Thor, it seemed, was still searching for his place in the nine realms; furthermore, she reminded herself, he had recently lost both parents. "Loki forbid it," she answered. "If he couldn't go with me he didn't want you to come along either."

"But he did not forbid me to have the information," Thor coaxed.

At that she couldn't help smiling. "Damn, you're more like him than I thought. Look, I don't want to get in between you – things are delicate enough as it is."

"But it has nothing to do with Loki, if you think about it. After all, I am a SHIELD agent as well, and an Avenger. Who better to confide in than me?"

Natasha regarded him steadily while her mind whirled. Finally, knowing it was probably going to bite her in the ass down the road, she produced the file marked Briggs Chemical. "Okay," she said. "Have a look."

* * *

_**NOTE - For the purposes of my story I've moved Briggs Chemical from New York to Oklahoma. Hope it doesn't ruffle too many feathers. And thank you, as always, for reading!**_


	5. 5 Sif

**5. Sif**

* * *

The kitchens were a sparkling expanse of brass and scrubbed wood; they smelled of beeswax and fresh bread. Sif nodded before handing out coins to the staff; she would have to keep on top of the cooks and assistants for several months, but they were well on their way to the level of quality Frigga always expected.

Scroll in one hand, Sif went downstairs and found the pillars were nearly completed. The Dark Elf technology, so dangerous when it first entered the realm, had been very useful in supporting the heavy mass of the palace roof as new stone was put in place. All rubble was cleared away. Fragrant flowers were heaped in urns and on plinths. One fresh-faced girl polished the silver shields on the walls, and several footmen were moving in new furniture.

Sif left the palace and headed to Frigga's memorial gardens, drawing in great draughts of fresh air. Already the bees hovered over blossoms in the hedges; soon it would be time to think about a spring solstice celebration.

At the edge of the garden the same worker greeted Sif with a tug on his hair and a wide grin of appreciation. "'Tis t'future queen, lads!" he shouted.

"Good morrow," she shot back. "How does the work commence?"

"Aye, well, milady. If weather holds all the beds should be dug and planted in a sennight. D' like to see t'new fountain?"

"I certainly would." Sif followed him down a winding path to a cleared area, where a group of engineers were shouting encouragement to each other as they wired in pipes for a marble structure. In the center was a statue of Frigga herself, cast as a Valkyrie with sword in hand and a winged helmet. It was perfect for a memorial, although Sif reflected the former queen might have poked sly fun at it in a private moment.

After thanking the gardeners, Sif left them and continued her walk through the garden. It was laid out in a seemingly haphazard fashion, with gentle hills and trees hiding the next section until she entered it; each portion was a new discovery with stone benches and banks of flowers as secret treasures.

So hidden were they she didn't see the group until she was nearly on top of them: three men and a female. One fellow quickly untied his breeches as the other two held the girl; a strip of something white was tied over her mouth. Sif stopped in shock before she dashed up, shouting, "Are you out of your minds? You are in the memorial place for Queen Frigga herself!"

The man stopped undoing his laces, but one of the others tightened his grip on the plunging girl. "And what of that?" he asked in a saucy tone. "The AllFather himself indulges in wine and women each night – 'tis known throughout the palace…"

"Enough!" Sif was incensed. She gripped her silly little scroll and wished for a sword; if the men decided to group together against her and the girl they could give out some very nasty moments before she over-powered them.

"Do you wish to be next?" The man added a wink. "We can service you and whatever number of maidens you bring with…"

"Silence." The voice was low and silky smooth, but the tone behind unmistakable. Loki appeared on the other end of the path. Casually he strolled towards the group and waved one hand; as one the three men fell on their knees. Loki gritted his teeth, twisted his fist, and they grasped their throats, started to choke and gasp for air.

"Get dressed, girl, and be on your way – no one will assault you today." His voice was smooth, but Sif sensed the anger underneath.

The girl shuddered and started to speak as soon as the gag fell off her mouth under Sif's quick fingers. "Hunst said there was a trapped rabbit in the garden! And so I came to help the poor thing, but he set on me with his friends – said he'd have my maidenhood…"

Sif felt in her pocket and produced several coins; she would have to borrow more from the treasury soon at that rate. "You are safe now, child. The AllFather himself will take care of these idiots. Go on – run back home."

"Disgracing my mother's garden? Raping a chit not much out of the schoolrooms? And threatening Lady Sif, the future queen?" Loki smiled, a ghastly grin of imminent danger. "Shall I throttle them here at our feet or allow them to rot in the dungeons?"

"Hmm." Sif pretended to consider the matter as the men rolled imploring eyes at her. "It is pleasant to watch them flop like carp on a riverbank, but I will have a few minutes alone with each one first in their prison cells. Start praying for your balls, gentlemen – if only you could reach down far enough to kiss them goodbye."

* * *

"I thank you," she murmured as they moved away from the gardens. "Of course I could have taken them myself, but it would have been much longer and far more tedious."

"Of course." Loki offered her his arm and she took it as they moved away from the gardens. "Do you like the tribute to Frigga?"

"It is beautiful. In truth I cannot wait to see the place by night, hung with lanterns." They fell into silence, but as Sif tended to the palace Loki covered her hand with his and gestured to the water gardens. "It is too fine a night to go inside this instant. Will you walk with me ere longer?"

"Very well." In truth Sif was glad to be away from thrones and courtiers; sometimes the interior of the palace stifled her with its gossip and stratagems after years spent in her soldier's tent.

She followed him to a low wall that ran along the bank of a tributary stream to the Gopul River and leaned against it. "How was Natasha when you left her?"

Loki gazed out over the water to the willows overhanging the water. "You can see she is on my mind?"

Sif laughed. "She is always on your mind."

His eyes alight, he turned to her. "Do you believe she thinks of me this very moment? Is it possible she holds me in her heart? I have found it very easy to pursue and capture lovers in the past, but this mortal flits just out of reach."

Natasha had indeed confessed to Sif the first night they lay together; she said Loki was 'in her head' and didn't know how to get him out. "I suppose so," Sif said vaguely.

"Do you? Why do you answer thus? Did she ever say anything about me? What was it exactly?"

"Tyr's prick, I am sorry I ever mentioned it. Enough!"

Loki's face creased in a smile, and Sif couldn't help grinning back. They regarded each other gravely; Loki waved at a moth about to alight in her hair.

She turned back to regard the water and he slipped one arm around her waist in an easy embrace. Sif felt her heart lighten; for many years she had been on her own – time was spent sparring with Hogun or Fandral, but never with anyone close enough to confide in. Now in a short space of time she had gained not only Natasha but also reconnected with Silvertongue. Sif reflected it was a treasure trove of conversation and previously unimaginable light moments. And so she turned to press her face against his chest, a frank hug between friends. Although she was a tall woman, he had outpaced her over the years and was able to rest his chin on her head. It was pleasant enough to relax in his arms and look out over the water within a rare moment of peace.

"Well met, brother!" The shout came behind them. Sif and Loki sprang apart to see Thor waving to them in greeting. His usual look of good-humor faded and his arm dropped; Sif realized he must have seen her and Loki pressed together.

"Well met, indeed," Loki replied in a sarcastic tone. "Did you come here just to say that?"

"No. I am just back from Midgard…" Thor's eyes turned from Loki to Sif, and his look of downcast gloom made her relent slightly.

"Come on, then, you two - away to the stables with me and help me inspect the mounts."

"I am off to my chambers." Without a backwards look, Loki stalked off.

* * *

Disgusted with the entire situation, Sif led the way to the officer's quarters. She was determined to quash any more talk with Thor about her and the AllFather. He fell into step beside her willingly, but as they talked more lightly of the palace and its improvements, she felt his gaze, still filled with curiosity and a shred of sadness.

"Do you remember our last hunt in the Asgard Mountains?" She wanted to improve his mood; Thor without his smile was almost a stranger.

"Aye," he replied heavily.

"And Volstagg fell atop the campfire during a skirmish? He clutched his buttocks and ran off to the stream trailing smoke and curses."

That elicited a deep chuckle. "He smashed our dinner as well – Hogun was never so angry!"

"Indeed! You and I had to go and slaughter a hind to feed them and stop their quarrels."

"Will you come to the tavern with me this night?" Thor stopped at the gate of the stables, a long building. The air was filled with the sweet smell of hay and horse.

Reluctantly, Sif shook her head. "I should not. Indeed I must measure each action in the future with what my queen would have done. Already the idiots within the palace walls tell foul tales about the AllFather's behavior."

She was about to move inside to fetch oats for her own steed, but he stopped her with one arm against the door. "Do you love my brother?" he asked in a low voice throbbing with emotion.

"I no longer want to discuss this with anyone, including you." Sif returned his steady look with her own. "I accepted the role of future queen so I can serve Asgard instead of being ignored. My ideas were continually shuttled aside until Natasha heard them and chose to put me forward for the throne."

"You will make a wonderful queen." Thor's eyes never left hers. "But I only wish…"

"Wishes, Thor? What do they serve, and for what purpose should you tell me of them? And what exactly do you wish? Because I believe you could have had it long ago, but you chose another path. I will not chastise you for your choice, but stop pursuing what is promised to another."

He was about to speak further, but she swept past him to fetch a bucket and oats for her mount.

* * *

Inside the palace Sif found a roll of bread, some sausages, and a jug of ale. She took her spoils to her chambers, intending to make a quick meal, work on her list, and revise her activities for the morrow. In truth, thanks to Loki's orders so much was already accomplished she could add a host of goals to come.

It was quiet in the ordered space. Sif set the plate to one side and started on her scrolls, the sound of her pen audible in the silence. She took one moment to glance around at the swords hanging ready, her armor polished in the corner, books neatly organized on the shelf. For centuries this had been her refuge. Soon she would leave the rooms for the last time wearing a queen's jeweled gown to move to the AllFather's portion with its heavy fittings and gold ornaments.

Her breath caught in her throat as she imagined the scene: dressing in robes of state and the sacred crown, going through the ceremony with the AllFather at her side. Not Thor - Loki.

Only one thought made it bearable: Natasha had promised her to be there throughout the wedding and subsequent coronation. The consummation would be very publicly attended nearly to the actual point of penetration, and the idea of lying with Loki alone made Sif shake her head. She simply could not go through with it if Natasha weren't there beside them.

Someone interrupted her thoughts by pounding on the door. She felt a bolt of anger spread through her as she rose, prepared to give Thor another taste of her temper. "This is outside of enough!" she shouted as she thrust her head into the hall.

Loki raised his eyebrows. "What have I done now?"

"Oh! I thought you were Thor." Sif craned her neck to make certain the passage was empty before she waved him inside. "As a matter of fact, I was just thinking about you."

He collapsed into a chair opposite hers. "These thoughts did not involve torture or punishment, I hope." His tone was light, but a slight frown and the grim set of his mouth proclaimed a troubled frame of mind.

"Not unless consummating our marriage counts as torture."

That erased the troubled look, and his face filled with laughter. "I think not!"

"Would you mind if Natasha was there with us that night, when it comes?" Sif realized she had blurted it out and added, "I – it just seems to work better if she shows us the way."

Loki stared in astonishment before breaking into laughter. "Ridiculous, is it not? The way you and I depend on this one tiny mortal. And, no, I do not mind. Quite the contrary, as you well know."

She blew out a long breath. "I hoped you would answer thus. But it is plain you have something on your mind. Out with it."

"The words those men spoke to you today in the garden concern me. As much as I want to be with you and Natasha, obviously the gossip has filtered around the palace that we have had what most would consider improper relations. My guess is the manservant who walked in on us three in the bath to deliver Thor's message allowed the story to get out."

"Damn!" Sif slammed one arm on the table. "I never considered that…" She rose suddenly and moved to her bookshelf to run one finger over the volumes with unseeing eyes. "It is most unwelcome news, just as I want to reform the morals within Asgard."

"And it is all my doing. If I had never taken up with Amora to begin with none of this would be happening now. My first priority is you bear none of the scandal. We could pretend to have a public argument – you accuse me of infidelity, and I vow my unending troth. After that, I shall redouble the magic and safeguards to keep Natasha's presence hidden."

"T'would be delicate, and messy at the same time," Sif mused. "And what of the consummation? I must have her there with me, as I said."

The white line above his mouth tightened. "I agree absolutely – she _has_ to be there with us."

"But the entire ceremony is so public, and we will be heralded to your rooms with the usual fanfare – singing, ribaldry, lewd stories."

Tilting his chair back, Loki rubbed one finger under his nose – a characteristic gesture of his that signaled deep thought. "If only there were some way to accomplish it – I could use magic to bring Natasha inside our rooms, but Amora will know instantly."

"I cannot do it without her," Sif repeated. She was about to turn away from the shelves when her finger came to rest on a book she had never noticed before. It bore no title on the spine, just a single rune. One line with two downward slashes: the letter A.

_'Tis already in your possession._ Thus the words from the soothsayer in the kitchens, and Sif was sure this was what the woman meant. She was also certain what A represented - or whom. She glanced at Loki, but he stared in front of him at the wall, patently lost in thought. Idly his fingers drummed on the table.

_What is Loki?_ Sif wondered. Was he the raving lunatic who tried to capture Midgard, the obsessed monarch imprisoning her and Natasha in his dungeons, or the well-mannered courtier who came to her rescue in Frigga's gardens? All three at once, or none of those? He seemed able to shift his skin and personality as easily as changing hose and jerkin.

And for a moment she was almost frightened to take the book, to open it, to discover what treachery lay inside.


	6. 6 Natasha

**6. Natasha**

* * *

"You. Good worker – could always rely." Sergil spoke through his ruined lips, where crabs were still feeding on the remaining skin. "Strong, smart. Best watchstander, and I work on rigs for many years."

The man's half-eaten face didn't bother her at all, but she was embarrassed by the compliments. "I wasn't good enough to save your life, though. It sucked when you died and I survived."

"You – alive. Me – dead. The facts. Nothing changes this. But," he added as she started to speak, "_You_ live like dead. Move like corpse. No love. Your life is shit."

"That's not true…"

* * *

The dream faded with the chirp of her phone. Natasha stifled a sigh and wiped her wet cheeks; she cursed softly in Russian because she wanted to stay in the moment and argue with Sergil, to tell him he was wrong. She was alive, not dead. She was busy and fulfilled. It seemed the things she couldn't say awake found words in her dormant hypothalamus.

_Shake it off, Romanov._ Natasha picked up her phone: _Clint. 3 am. Her level 8 line._ The pieces of information hit her brain, causing several instant reactions. "Hey," she said into the speaker. "What's up?"

"I thought you might like to see the new shoes I got." Clint's voice was level and expressionless.

The asylum – he had a way in. "Are they penny loafers?"

"Lace-ups, but I think they're comfortable enough to wear to work." Their code for prepping the new op.

"Fifteen minutes downstairs." Natasha disconnected and swung out of bed, thanking her lucky stars Loki wasn't there; he would never have allowed her to leave so quickly.

Her equipment was packed; she had spent each evening checking her discs, Bites, and Kisses. It was all ready to go.

At the door Natasha paused for one final look around the apartment, running through a lengthy inventory in her mind. She told herself she had everything she needed as she ran down the stairs.

* * *

The asylum was cordoned off with security and caution tape; several rent-a-cops marked the front entrance. "We've got two hours," Clint advised as he handed Natasha a badge and flashed his to the woman with a rifle blocking their way. "Nick's pissed, but he trusts your instincts."

"Does the Council know?"

"Maria's going to keep it on the down-low as long as she can."

"Perfect."

Natasha entered the first floor behind him. It still smelled of formaldehyde and fear, even though the bodies carved up by Dr. Holmes had long ago been taken out, tagged, and put on ice. As they wound through the rooms, a small part of her couldn't help marveling at the man's obsession, visible throughout the building's set-up. There were secret rooms and hidden nooks; Clint peered into one and said, "It's an underground version of the Nest. There were MRE's, water filtration kits, thermafuel stored inside before SHIELD cleared it out…your boy Holmes was prepared to sit out an apocalypse."

"Survival nut, or do you think he had plans for some sort of global scenario with Briggs?" Natasha had already filled him in on the files Maria gave her.

"We didn't find anything like that when SHIELD combed through here."

"Okay. Let's head upstairs to where I was held and we'll see if there are some clues they didn't notice."

She led the way to the industrial elevator; the last time she was in it she had been held in a metal coffin about to be dissected by the mad doctor himself. Rescue came at the unlikely hands of Loki, leading to their flight to the safe house and the start of their affair. The elevator rattled up the shaft, and she stared in the direction where the safe house lay – the real one, not Loki's magical recreation in Asgard.

"Oops, we're at the top of the building. Dumb thing doesn't work." Clint was about to push the button to descend, but Natasha stopped him.

"While we're here, we might as well check it out. Were all the prisoners rescued?"

"Yeah, but some were in pretty bad shape. Dehydrated, starving, and suffering from addiction. I heard they all made a pretty quick recovery, though. The victims went through the same thing you did, I guess. You going to be okay walking around up here?"

The doors were all closed, and the place was silent. The neon overhead was out, and they turned on high-powered flashlights; the blue-white beams sliced through the dark and picked up dust hanging in the still air.

"I'll be fine," Natasha promised. Dreams of clamps in the walls that grabbed her wrists and processed auto-injections of lithium still woke her at night, unless Loki fucked her into oblivion first. After a long night of sex with him the nightmares seemed to keep away. "I just want to check out some of these rooms."

"Sure could use a beer right about now." Clint peered into one room; his light picked up splashes of blood and other body fluids on the floor and wall. "Any chance we can head out on that hunting trip when you're done this detail?"

Natasha thought of long days on the trail, eating game over the fire at night, sleeping in a cabin with a clear lake close by. Loki would pitch a fit, but she had engineered his engagement with another woman, for chrissake. Damn, she had practically pushed his prick inside Sif, if it came to that. Still, he also had the emotional maturity of a two-year old and the powers of a god – she didn't want him blowing up Iowa or turning Clint into a redtail. And Sif herself might have a few objections … dating two Asgardians at once was wonderful for her sex life but hell on her social calendar. "I just have to check on a few things first, but it sounds really, really good. No romance, though, right?"

"No way. It's all meat, arrows, and a lot of alcohol." Clint spoke casually, but when she turned her light on his face he was grinning like a loon. "Hey, cut the brights, Romanov!"

"Deal with it, Barton." She mirrored his smile as she cased out the next room. A getaway from everything – the case, Asgardian politics, and SHIELD – would be amazing.

Idly she swung the torch over the walls and stopped. Something was written on the wall in brownish liquid. It was dried blood, of course, and the letter spelled out a name: _Sylvie Lushton_.

* * *

There was no time to stop, even though Clint was gray-faced with weariness. Natasha insisted they could sleep on the plane. "I just want to check the floor where Loki and I were held first," she added.

"Don't you want to check in on this Lushton chick right away?" Clint asked.

"There was a bunch of stuff on this floor. Let's have a quick look before our time runs out." She got off the elevator and headed past Dr. Holmes's office, into the huge dayroom.

Natasha could still picture the place as it was the first time she saw it: the kid watching Adventure Time, Maria on the couch…and of course Loki, upright in the folding chair. It was the start of the affair between them. Now the room was dark and deserted; all inhabitants either rescued or shunted off to jail. She shivered and forced her attention back on the case.

"Ugh, this place gives me the creeps." Clint flashed the beam of his torch around the room.

"Yeah, me too. I just wanna check the patient's rooms and we'll head out." She headed to the far corridor where Carl used to ply his mop, obsessing about blood and scheming to get in her pants. Nothing moved in the squalid rooms, not even rodents; it was like walking through a tomb.

"This was where you stayed?"

"Yup. Did you read my report and study the maps I drew?"

"Yeah." Shaking his head, Clint studied the tiny hospital bed (now lying on its side) and rows of industrial drawers, pulled out and emptied. The bathroom door was open, and he went into the tiny space. "How did you manage to stash supplies? I mean, you came in here with nothing. I knew you were good, Tasha, but you got Maria out and brought down the whole place…"

"Thor rescued Maria, and I only escaped with Loki's help. If he hadn't been here I'd have been strung up like a slaughtered cow in the Sub-Zero downstairs. But I was able to get a couple of items during my little stay – just a few. I stuck them up here." She indicated the loose tile in the ceiling. "After I disabled the security cams – same old, same old – it was easy to find a spot. And the tile slid right back, like this."

"There something up there." Clint's flashlight picked up the edge of a stiff square as she opened her old hiding place.

"Holy shit." Natasha climbed up on the toilet, got the item, and pulled. It was a standard office memo envelope; on the front in red Sharpie someone had written her name: _Natasha Romanov._ The shock of it made her breath whistle. "Clint, they knew I'd come back here!"

"Okay, we're getting the hell out. Time to take this and figure out the connection between Briggs and the asylum."

* * *

She waited until Clint nodded off on the plane before opening the note. Inside was a piece of plain printer paper with _To N From A_ typed on it. A memory stick tumbled out as Natasha upended the envelope.

The slim object fit right into her laptop. Instantly a folder with several docs and a wmv popped up. One was marked _L / A Agreement._ Another was _L / A Plan._ The wmv had the title _L / A Discussion._

N stood for herself, of course. It wasn't very difficult to figure out whom A stood for. And as for L…

A feeling of cold dread trickled down Natasha's spine. She remembered whispering something in Loki's bedroom after he, Sif and Natasha had slept together – an admission she never thought she would make. She recalled the promises he offered her inside their safe house, as well as the unspoken words she held on her lips while they kissed. At that moment in his arms, she had nearly forsaken everything drilled into her in Russia and at SHIELD.

Her finger hovered over the track pad. The last thing she wanted to do at that moment was open the wmv and the two docs.

Natasha signaled for the flight attendant and ordered a glass of vodka. When the man brought it with a small napkin and one packet of pretzels, she downed half the glass with a single gulp. "Another," she gasped.

"Somebody was thirsty! One more, but that's your limit." She caught him giving her a quizzical look; probably he was afraid she'd turn into one of those onboard drunks and a nightmare for the aircrew to handle.

With the glass hugged to her chest, Natasha retrieved her ear buds and plugged them in. Willing herself to action, she opened the wmv.

It was filmed in Dr. Holmes's office. The man was nowhere in sight; Loki and Amora sat across from each other at the desk. Their conversation was difficult to hear, but someone had subtitled it in red text at the bottom of the screen.

_L: When the time is right, I shall return to Asgard and take the throne._

_A: It is all prepared. The medical doctor is an idiot – I can control him with our opiate potions and the promise of victims. He enjoys pulling his own kind apart, limb by limb._

_L: Good. He can own the Midgard patients. I do not care about them. However, I will need some sort of entertainment throughout the ordeal._

_A: Always needing more, do you not, Loki? As a matter of fact, I have that completed as well. Here is the file of the nurse we have employed – she is pretty enough, and willing to cooperate. I believe your pet is named Rebecca._

_L: (Takes file, removes what looks like a picture, studies it) Not bad. (Throws picture on desk.) She looks dull, however, like most on this realm. I will need more._

_(Short silence)_

_A: Do you want a Vanir attendant? It could be difficult, but I could cloud her mind – or his mind, if it comes to that. Or I could pay an Aesir wench. Which would you prefer?_

_L: Neither. There is one Midgardian, however, who showed herself worthy of my attention. It would amuse me to toy with her further._

_A: By the AllFather's Beard! Are you certain? Who in Yggdrasil... (Stops as Loki makes impatient movement) Very well, if you are set on her. Give me the name._

_L: Natasha Romanov. It will be more difficult to procure her than your Vanir attendants – she is well-guarded and fiercely intelligent. However, she is about to investigate Briggs – it would solve two problems at once._

_A: (smiles) She is no match for me or my opiate tincture. And if any of her handlers_ _protest we will capture them along with her._

_L: (Hesitates) Very well, if it is the only way._

Natasha paused the stream. She wanted to stop the interview at that point, throw the memory stick out of the plane, and jump after it without a parachute. At her elbow, Clint sighed in his sleep – perhaps he was dreaming about charred meat over the fire or his old circus days.

Still, there were thirty more seconds to go in the video stream. _Toughen up, Romanov. Time to regain your old emotional armor._

Shuddering, she pressed Play.

_A: And what of the Lushton girl?_

_L: I have given her a new identity. She will be the go-between for the asylum and Briggs. Now, let us do the blood bond so we cannot betray each other and speak of this to anyone else. (Removes dagger from sleeve, cuts palm, holds it up)_

_A: Very well. (Holds up palm, cuts skin with the knife, touches it to Loki's hand)_

_(Video ends.)_

Her second mini bottle of vodka arrived, and Natasha poured it with both hands; she didn't want to shake and spill the stuff onto her lap. It hit the back of her throat – cold and sharp, but not nearly strong enough.

Natasha closed her eyes and felt her mind whirl like a rat in a tube looking for a way out. _Amora left this here for me. She knows I'll see it and - and - and despair. Could she have created the entire conversation - is it only enchantment? An illusion?_

With a shake of her head, Natasha opened her eyes and felt for a twenty-dollar bill. Carefully she stood, maneuvered around Clint's knees, and walked to the restroom. There she splashed cold water on her face and washed her hands, drying them carefully as though she could get rid of the conversation in the wmv along with the sweat and airplane dirt.

When she sat down again, the twenty was gone, slipped into the attendant's pocket. In Natasha's hand were three miniature bottles of vodka; she cracked the sealed lid on one and poured it into her glass of ice before opening the laptop.

Unopened emails blinked at her. With a stifled sigh she opened her mail folder and saw the results from the lab - she had never read Bruce's note. Quickly she clicked on it:

_Hey Tasha,_

_I tested the sample you gave me and frankly I'm perplexed. It shows the same hexameric structure as the enhanced lithium injected into you and Maria at the asylum, but there is a tripartite function, as though the chemical chain were set out at an obtuse angle._

_As a result, the sample acts like an opiate once inhaled or swallowed. It is addictive - for a while. After a period of five months to a year, the user's system would expel the substance. It would no longer give them dreams or the desire to use. In other words, this drug seems to include its own 12-step program._

_I've never seen anything like it - I almost think it is magic._

_After this preliminary test, I want to run a longer set of experiments. It's just possible we can use this substance to treat heroin and cocaine addicts, once we figure out how it works. Is there a chance you could you get me more samples?_

_-Bruce_

Magic. Obtuse angle. Natasha knew exactly what that meant.

She had always said since the very beginning of the case none of it made any sense. Why was she brought into the asylum in the first place? And here was the answer she had avoided, had never even wanted to confront: because Loki had engineered the entire thing from the very beginning.

On her thigh, Kenaz started to burn with an insistent, magical pulse, thrumming throughout her entire body. Somewhere, in a different realm, Loki thought about her, waited for her, confident of her desire and their next ecstatic coupling. And even with the cold evidence of his betrayal staring at her from the laptop screen, Natasha wanted him thrusting inside her so badly her hands shook.

When they confronted each other again, what the hell was she going to tell him?


	7. 7 Sif

**7. Sif**

* * *

She waited until Loki left her room with a brush of his lips on her hand and a friendly goodnight. Sif didn't know how she managed to continue to speak naturally with him, conversation flitting from affairs of the realm to Natasha – the one subject he was unable to avoid.

Because she didn't want to open the book with A on the spine in front of him. Sif remembered the words of the worker downstairs: _You are looking for something, and it is already found. _

She had been sent on many difficult missions in war-torn realms, laden with sword and mallet to beat down oppressive chieftains and rescue the weak. To keep the peace. A sort of sixth sense evolved within her; she began to realize when it was best to speak openly, how to manipulate a combatant both physically and mentally, what thoughts to hide under a mask of civility.

That sense told her now the book under her hands held secrets strong and dire enough to rend the palace apart – its hidden politics and the hearts of those involved. For one heady moment she considered throwing the book into the glowing coals in her fireplace and watching the pages curl into ash. They could all continue on as before: Natasha, with her breathtaking intelligence and sensuality, Loki as a new-found friend, and Sif, about to become the queen of the realm she loved. Her life had been spare and ordered in the extreme, and the little interlude between the three of them had been – ah, so sweet! Perhaps all the sweeter for its coming end.

With one desperate breath, Sif opened the book and sat by the dying fire to read. Just as she had feared, within the pages were lists of plans written in exquisite copperplate, Amora's own hand.

_Hiding Loki on Midgard until Odin expired in his final Sleep._

_Keeping Thor bemused with his own mortal and the work for SHIELD._

_Infiltration of the realm with an opiate powder to lay a scourge upon the shining city._

_Loki's subsequent rescue of Asgard from the foul disease with his magic._

_Drawing the famous Black Widow into the web within the hospital, and keeping her busy investigating the asylum affair._

_Hidden dark portals between the realms, staged on Karnilla and within Briggs Chemical._

_Sylvie Lushton, a focal point to keep the intricate strands held firmly in place._

_A vow to put Amora on the throne as queen once Loki was AllFather._

Loki. Amora. The facts were inescapable – they had plotted together throughout the entire affair, and the end result would be the two of them ruling the nine realms together without Sif.

Or would it? Because Sif knew Amora. They were rivals for Thor's heart, had always been until he landed on top of Jane Foster. If Loki thought the enchantress would happily forget her desire for his brother, he was a fool.

And Loki, she knew, was no fool.

As experienced as she was in subterfuge, Sif feared Loki would see the new knowledge in her face, as well as a myriad of questions. Had he betrayed them all along? Were his plans unchanged? And was the love he confessed for Natasha merely a part of the betrayal?

She wanted to think it all over in a quiet place far from the Palace. To leave all of a sudden, however, would be like putting on armor and charging off with a lance – she might as well advertise her suspicions. Instead she scribbled a quick note to her betrothed and packed the book in the bottom of an old satchel, covering it with a change of clothes. She would pack bread and fruit in the morning and rely on her sword for the rest.

* * *

There was no hesitation when it came to choosing a refuge. When the morning light had turned from purpled silver to gold, Sif saddled her mount and galloped off across the Plain of Ida to a clearing in the forest, difficult to reach but all the more private for that.

It was the place she had gone to centuries earlier, tear-streaked and filled with rage, certain her future brought her corsets and a loveless marriage to an aging nobleman. When she arrived Sif dismounted, prepared a seat, and removed the book from her satchel; as she tipped her head back to catch the early sun, the ghost of the young girl she once was seemed to appear and throw herself onto the ground in despair.

She remembered weeping until she was a hiccuping, gasping mess. Only a pair of strong arms rescued her: Thor had followed her desperate refuge and knelt to embrace her. On his shoulder she sobbed her fears – an endless parade of tea parties and gossip, with none of the military drill and fighting she loved.

"_Why can you not take up your sword?" he asked._

"_Because I am a woman. I must learn to keep house and raise babies, and it terrifies me."_

_His hand cupped her chin, forced her to look up at him. "Time for you to forge a new future for yourself. The Valkyries are warriors, and so is the queen. If you truly wish to become a knight, Sif, then you must prepare to fight your most important battle – the war for your own fate."_

Thus had the Lady Sif, warrior maiden, been born.

Sif sighed and stared at the budding leaves with unseeing eyes. It had all been so simple then, before the disastrous voyage to Jotunheim and Odin's final Odinsleep.

"I thought I might find you here."

The book went in the dust. Sif shot to her feet, one hand on the hilt of her blade. Thor himself stood in the clearing, sunlight making his hair glow like new wheat. "How did you find me?" she demanded.

"'Twas ever our place." He gestured for her to sit, and after a moment of hesitation she did so. "Do you remember…"

"I was just thinking of it," she interrupted. "And how many of our conversations begin with the word Remember! We have many good memories between us, do we not?"

Her heart stuttered at the sight of his usual cheerful grin. "Aye, we do! But alas, there are many changes now." Thor sat next to her and arranged himself comfortably against the felled tree she had chosen as a resting spot.

"I miss the queen more and more every day," she blurted. "Odin as well. Many did not like him, but he was a father to me."

"He adored you. He chided me for not taking you as wife."

_So Thor would move that fast!_ Sif decided to confront him, just as squarely as he challenged her. "Why did you leave your mortal? You abandoned the throne for her."

Thor winced as though some legless creature sank poisoned fangs into his skin. "It was incredibly difficult to live in another realm. There are manners and customs there we can only guess at – it is an entirely different way of life. Jane helped me when she could, and I worked with SHIELD. Still, it all weighed on me. And when she went to a country called Greenland for her work, she wanted me to come with her. I would have had to live in a trailer the size of your closet. It could have been done, but there was no job for me – could you imagine me sitting all day, waiting for her return so I could speak with someone before trying to sleep? No work, nothing to do but look at the Computer device? I would have lost my mind. And so we decided it was best if I returned to Asgard. It was what they call a 'mutual decision' in Midgard."

"Do you still love her?"

"I will always love Jane Foster." Thor caught and held Sif's eyes. "But lately I see it is possible to love more than one at a time – each lady is different, but no less worthy for that. Perhaps you can understand what I mean more than any other."

"Thor…"

His gaze was pressing, insistent. "And do you love my brother?"

She shook her head. "Even seven days ago I would have said No. But we shared two things deeply – a passion to bring Asgard to its former glory, and the regard of a maiden."

Thor nodded. "Natasha. She is worthy, Sif – a true warrior. Her spirit is bold and tender at the same time, for all she tries to stifle her emotions."

"I know it." Sif leaned her head against the tree and looked out into the sea of green leaves. "You deserve to know the truth - I lay with her and with Loki both. We were all three of us lovers, sometimes together in the same bed at once. It may sound like the height of decadence, but Natasha made it right between us – almost natural. It was good, for a moment."

He bent forward. "And now?"

Sif picked up a piece of sweetgrass and put it between her thumbs as a whistle, an old habit of hers when she considered her next words. Although Thor could have told her his regard for Jane was gone, perhaps seduced her as a result right there in the clearing, he had favored her with the truth. He never hesitated in his honesty.

The grass split as she whistled into it; she dropped the strand and produced the book with the A on the spine. "I found this in my room. Natasha and I thought Amora was at the root of the problems we had in her realm and on Asgard, but it seems there is another."

Thor took the book, read the pages she marked for him, and frowned. A shade came over his face and he dropped his head in his hand. "It is ever thus," he said in a low voice. "Just as I believe Loki has redeemed himself, the entire situation turns and he is behind another piece of mischief."

Sif shivered. "My concern is for Natasha. She rides to the quest in Midgard…"

"…With no thought to her own safety. She showed me the files. Clint Barton is at her side, and they are both brave. And strong. Yet for all that…"

"They are mortals." Dimly she realized they had regained their old habit of finishing each other's sentences. "We must do something for them, Thor."

"We could dash off to Midgard together this instant, but I learned that spreads chaos instead of peace. And Loki did help me the last time I went to him, in the affair with the Dark Elves."

"This is his own plan!" Sif waved the book in the air. "Do you really want to tell him we know about it? The one thing on our side is the element of surprise."

"And do you want to confront Amora without my brother? She is the most powerful being the length of Yggdrasil, barring him."

"Gods, what a pickle."

"We cannot leave Natasha and my friend Barton on their own. Thanks to the file she showed me, I know their location. We can at least be by their sides in case the enchantress hears of their actions."

"And Loki? What of him?" Sif sprang to her feet, and Thor uncurled his own long limbs to stand beside her. "What will we say to him about our own actions?"

His eyes dropped before her direct gaze. "I love him - you know this. If it were merely you with Loki in the betrothal, I would never have touched your hand in more than honor for the future queen. However, when I saw his expression as he looked at Natasha, I knew instantly what lay between you was mere convenience, nothing more."

"Yes, yes. Marriages of convenience can be rewarding, however - in fact, your own parents..." Sif stopped and looked at Thor. "Just a moment. Loki has a series of important meetings this day. If we told him where we were going, that we rode to save Natasha, he would let us leave with his blessing. We do not mention this book or our knowledge of his treachery, but it should serve."

Thor's eyes started to twinkle with hidden laughter. "Aye! Once he recovers from his instant anger at me - 'tis always his way - he will allow Heimdall to give us passage."

It felt familiar to plot with him, like slipping into a warm bath. Sif packed up her satchel and headed to her horse. "Very well, we have it straight. Let us ride."

He stopped her with one firm hand on her waist. "Allow me say one thing to you first. If you were _my_ betrothed, there would be no other lovers – not for you nor me either. It would only be us two." Thor stopped and kissed her quickly on her mouth. He smelled like the forest around them, only more intensely so; the scent made her mouth water. Sif wanted more, she realized; so much so her hands were shaking with desire.

_What would the men in Frigga's garden say if they saw the future queen now?_ For that reason she stepped away from him, made her way back to her mount where it stood, stamping with impatience, and stepped lightly into the saddle.

* * *

Like the horse, Loki was also pacing when they returned. Sif and Thor found him in the AllFather's rooms, wearing a dark look of gloom and his old armor.

Sif feared her absence caused his anger, but as soon as Loki saw her his face brightened. "Sif! Thank the Gods. Something is amiss – I know it. I have tried to find Natasha on Midgard, but she is missing. Will you two help me? Alas, the duties of AllFather tie me here at the very moment I wish to leave."

"What does this mean, brother? You have tried to have Heimdall contact her?"

"No, I use another more intimate means to reach Natasha…" Loki strode to Sif's side and seized her hands. "I can always sense her presence – _you_ know how it is done. But I cannot find her in Asgard, nor Midgard, nor any realm. It is as though she has disappeared, and I am about to lose what is left of my sanity."

"Do you think she is in danger?" As much as Sif wanted to confront Loki, she thought it was best to calm him down first.

"How could you know from here, a realm away? Only Heimdall can see into Midgard…"

Loki dropped Sif's fingers and interrupted Thor, coming close to grasp his brother's collar. "Natasha and I are connected, you oaf, and I cannot go to her because of my fucking duties as AllFather! She could be at the brink of death, and I can do nothing."

Thor stole a glance at Sif. "As a matter of fact, I can help you in this, brother. Agent Romanov showed me her files, and I know where she and Barton are headed in the investigation."

"She showed you the files?" Loki's voice hushed with coiled anger. "I told her not to align with you. She was to keep it secret."

"But this is nonsense!" Thor shook his head with astonishment. "This action allows Sif and I to fulfill the very task you lay before us!"

"I do not want you and Sif to be her rescuers - _I_ want to be the one at Natasha's side. And because I have to go and listen to a group of fools chatter about trade and treaties, I cannot go to her defense... She does not know... Amora will..." He staggered, pressed a hand to his heart, and panic contorted his elegant features. "No! Not now!"

Thor was in Sif's view as Loki faltered and fell, supported by his brother's arms. It wasn't until she saw the golden haze settle over him that she understood.

The Sleep had come upon the AllFather.

"Not now," Loki repeated. His eyes closed, and he did not move again.


	8. 8 Natasha

**8 Natasha**

* * *

"We were hired by an outside source to employ Sophie Lushton." Jeremy Briggs regarded them through his spectacles and flung the S. LUSHTON folder onto his long, polished desk.

"They gave her the job on Karnilla?" Natasha asked.

"Right. After that we heard nothing more about her. The other company paid her wage, handled the HR, took over all the details."

As he spoke, Natasha measured the man. He had surprised her – intelligent, soft-spoken, even likable. Not what she had expected at all. "And the company who required it?" she repeated.

"I'll get my admin to give you all the information we have on them and Ms Lushton. Just stop by her desk on the way out." Jeremy spread his hands out in a questioning gesture. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

* * *

"So is he full of shit or what?" Clint asked as he drove. Briggs Chemical was located in what looked like miles of industrial complexes, long lines of anonymous buildings identifiable only by the numbers on granite signs at each entrance. It was like traveling across Mars. Interspersed were rental car companies, middle grade restaurants, and hospitality suites. They were in a rental car heading to one of those suites, and Natasha was pretty sure they would end up ordering from one of the restaurant chains later.

"He's full of shit," she responded. Kenaz buzzed with ticklish energy on her thigh – any minute Loki would completely lose his patience and show up on Midgard, clamoring for sex and her full attention. What would she say to him when he did? "There's definitely more to this than our friend Jeremy's saying."

"So what's our move - undercover op? Infiltration? Or just barge in and grab the goods? You make the call."

"Definitely just barge in. We don't have time to work up personae and backstories." Natasha tapped the folders on her knee. "Let's study these tonight and get a battle plan in place."

"Battle plan?" Clint looked amused. "You've been spending too much time in Asgard."

She looked out of the window. "Got to agree with you there."

* * *

The folder Briggs had given them was all about Key Services Inc. "Damn it!" Natasha through it on the bed. She could almost hear Loki's voice saying, _"Naturally they will be shadows, mere figments created to hide other shadows, and at the end will be a shady business dealing in men's hosiery."_

"What's up?" Clint looked up from the plans of the Briggs building.

"It's like he's taunting me," Natasha muttered.

"Briggs? More bullshit, right? Well, let's just follow these leads, and by that I mean do our homework and reach the dead ends this asshole gave us." Clint heaved a sigh and turned back to his plans. "I think I found a few weaknesses in the building itself – one is an obvious trap, so we'll set up a way in through the others. It will take a bit more hacking, but not a problem."

"Okay." She hadn't been talking about Jeremy Briggs, though.

"I've been seeing someone," Clint added.

"Oh yeah?" Natasha looked up. "How's it going?"

"Good. You know, it's casual. Nice, quiet – relaxing."

"Hey, good for you. That's great." Natasha grinned at him; they both returned to their tasks in a comfortable silence.

She navigated her way through back-end portions of corporate websites; just as Loki had predicted, Key Services was a bunch of folding chairs in a rental center with boxes of reclaimed goods and a constantly changing series of temp employees. Natasha investigated each worker and all available info, but it led nowhere. It was a colossal waste of time.

That task completed, she flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was structured with old-fashioned popcorn plaster and faux woodwork. Generic landscape paintings hung on the wall. Natasha knew the service menu would have the usual roast chicken, strip steak, and soup of the day. How many times had she stayed in rooms like this one?

Suddenly the space seemed to close in on her, and she couldn't bear it any longer. "Clint, you want to try and find a campsite close by when we're done here?" she asked.

His head shot up. "What? Oh. You want to go now? We don't have supplies, but…"

"What the hell - I've got money I haven't even spent yet. Let's just go buy a bunch of junk and take a few nights off if Fury says it's okay as soon as we're done with Briggs."

"Hm." Clint sounded unconvinced.

* * *

Clint's plan was easy and quick. Natasha went over it, adapted several portions, and added an idea or two of her own. There were a few guards, but she thought they might be able to get in without any struggle or alerts in a GIGO situation.

Suited up, they drove to an industrial park a mile away and parked in a darkened lot. Natasha followed the path Clint laid out behind silent buildings; only a few lights in the windows betrayed some late-night workers or cleaning crews.

At Briggs, the entire building lay in darkness. Clint signaled a left/right split; he went off in one direction and Natasha took the other.

The guard in front of her door took breaks every two hours. Natasha waited until he stepped out of sight before going up to the door, hacking in with a simple generic iPass, and slipping upstairs before the man returned from the restroom.

Twisting through the shadows, she passed floors of cubicles, plusher offices for the higher-ups, and arrived at Jeremy's own floor, now shrouded in darkness. At the other end of the hall she saw a dim figure – Clint, on his way to the highest floor.

She let herself into Briggs's room with a set of picks and more hacking work. Quickly she flipped through the filing system before going to find the usual hidden safe and firebox of really important stuff. But the wall safe contained only LLC docs as well as some cash and bonds – all personal. Natasha took pictures of it all but knew it was another dead end.

Just as she was closing it up and resetting the trip wire for the alarm, her wristphone buzzed. "Get up here. Found the money shot."

* * *

The final floor required a lot of intricate tooling to get in. Clint was already inside, and Natasha touched him on the shoulder. "Nice hack work, buddy."

"Learned from the best." His tone was vague. "Tasha, come and check this out." She followed him to the back of the building. Another set of entwined doors led to a line of mirrors on a wall. "What do you make of it? The plans show there's something back there, but I can't find a way in."

Triumph made her smile. "I know exactly how to breach this bitch." The silver disc Sif had found on Karnilla lay in her bag; quickly she pulled it out. "Now we just have to find the door. Use your fingers – you'll feel a depression. That's going to give it away."

"Here." Clint beckoned. "I think I got it."

Natasha slid her hands over the surface. "Sweet. Okay, this is going to flash silver when it's ready – there."

The hidden door slid open. She flicked on her flashlight but already knew what she would find.

There it was, the stone gate with runic inscriptions around its surface. Clint exclaimed, got out his camera, and started to take some shots. "Just like the one you and Sif found on the rig!" he said.

"Yeah. Just like that."

And just like the gate on Karnilla, the Briggs gate wouldn't respond. Finally Clint called off the op; the guards did a building search every three hours. "Time to scoot," he insisted.

"Okay." He was right; it would be good to keep the op on the down low. With one last look at the otherworldly artifact, Natasha followed him and closed the mirrored door behind them. Her reflection mocked her, pale and earnest in the somber lights.

* * *

"So all trails lead back to Asgard, pretty much." Clint regarded the pizza crust in his hand, decided against taking another bite, and threw it back into the box on his bed.

"Pretty much."

"You know, you're going to have to show Fury the contents of the envelope we found in the asylum."

Natasha squeezed her eyes shut. Kenaz fluttered on her thigh in a steady rhythm, nearly impossible to ignore. _You're thinking with your vagina instead of your head, Romanov._ She flung down her own half-eaten pizza and went to Clint's bed with her laptop; quickly she accessed the files from the memory stick. Without a word she opened the wmv and tilted the screen so he could see it.

Clint watched the vidstream completely; his hangdog expression seemed to droop even further as he played it again. Finally he looked up straight into her eyes. "File your report yet?"

"Yeah. We debrief on Tuesday."

"Yeah. That gives us an extra 48 hours. What the fuck – want to go camping?"

* * *

He traded their rental for an RV; they drove to Cabela's where Clint found a bow he called acceptable. Natasha decided to get a knife that wasn't too bad; she could never resist a new weapon.

Her mood lightened as they headed away from the suites and industrial parks. Actual trees appeared on the sides of the road; Clint steered towards upstate. Obviously he intended to put as many miles between the industrial parks and the RV as possible. There was a reservoir north of Broxton near Fort Cobb; he thought it would work for a one-night trip.

It turned out to be a small lake within flat fields with a scrub of trees. Natasha shrugged and unloaded, determined to spend one night outside of the courtesy suite. She had nearly strangled in the H-Vac atmosphere.

* * *

They spent the day hiking the perimeter of the reservoir. Clint kept his bow ready, but by nightfall they had nothing. "Good thing I packed steaks on ice," he said, poking her side. "And beers, of course."

"Of course." Natasha sat back in a folding chair and contemplated the water through the trees. She felt peaceful; for a moment she didn't know why until it hit her.

Kenaz was silent. The pulsing in her blood had disappeared.

The change was really good - or everything had gone horribly wrong. It could mean Loki was intent on something else, or he had decided to come after her. Either way, she wanted to face the fall-out alone.

"I'm going to rinse off in the water real quick. Do you mind starting the fire?" she asked.

"I'll do better than that. Dinner will be ready by the time you get back."

She touched Clint's shoulder in a quick gesture of friendship and headed to the reservoir. There she stripped off her sweatshirt, knelt by the water, and washed her hands. What the hell – she dunked her head under and rinsed off with water from her hip bottle.

So, what was she going to say to Loki when they confronted each other? Because that confrontation would happen eventually. Natasha hoped his temper wouldn't take over – or hers either, for that matter. Whatever happened, she knew the idyll between them and Sif had ended.

The pop in her ears proclaimed the arrival from Asgard. Cursing, she toweled off quickly with her sweatshirt and put it back on. With a cold iron snake coiling in her stomach and dread slithering through her veins, Natasha turned.

A beautiful woman stood behind her, the final rays of the sun casting a becoming shade over her face. "Agent Romanov?" she said.

_Amora. Of all people…_ Natasha knew she was fucked. No one could fight the enchantress except Loki.

"You're thinking of the message I left you in the asylum." Amora left the cover of the woods and joined Natasha at the water's edge. "I assumed you'd find it. Do you mind if we sit here and talk for a bit? I thought it was time I explained some things."

Surprised at the change in the woman, Natasha shrugged and found a fallen tree to sit on; silently, Amora joined her. She wore Asgard tunic and leggings – but the outfit was so simple it would have almost fit in on Midgard.

Natasha regarded her and thought again how lovely she was. "So you and Loki were working together all along?" She decided there was no use in hedging; as she asked the question, Natasha snicked the Record button on her smartwatch. She hoped against all reason it would survive her – imminent death sat next to her on the branch, with gold curls cascading down her back.

Amora nodded. "When Loki asked you join him in the asylum, I thought you would never survive the imprisonment or proximity to him, to be honest. And when you found Karnilla I thought it would be your end, especially when Sophie discovered you. But here you are."

"Here I am." Natasha gazed out at the scrubby landscape; it resembled the sad paintings in the hotel room. _What a shitty final view._ If only it could have been Paris, or lily-of-the-valley in Manchester, or snowfall seen from the windows of the safe house. "Why?" she asked.

"Why the plan?" Amora's eyes were shrewd. "You have already figured it out, have you not? I worked with Loki to betray his father. And take you down, of course, at the same time – but that was just a bonus, really."

"But you won't leave it at that. Now you have him on the throne, you'll enact your own private plan. Right? You won't rest until Thor becomes AllFather."

Amora sighed. "Yes, of course. I must say I really did underestimate you. Who ever thought mortals could be clever and brave? We always considered you a type of insect, to be ruled and played with. I must say, you were a fun toy for a while – for me and for Loki as well."

_I only wish I could tell you how precious you are to me._

Was it all a lie – the entire affair between Natasha, Loki and Sif?

The envelope – so easily discovered.

The evidence within – so damning.

The opiate powder on Asgard – so easily cleaned up.

Betrayal, followed by betrayal, followed by …

Those thoughts ticked through Natasha's brain like seeds in a dry pod. She knew there was more to the story and she only had seconds to figure it out. "What about Sophie Lushton?" she asked.

"It's a shame about her. She surprised me as well – even poor Sophie was stronger than I thought. She's sick now, of course – the power we gave her doesn't sit well in mortal bodies. And she's grown to love that feeling of magic, but she wants to harness her power and use it for good. I'm afraid Sophie is facing a rather messy end."

"Amora, listen." Natasha watched as the sun slid below the horizon; the delicious smell of roast steak tickled her nostrils. Any second Clint would burst out of the woods with a cold beer in his hand to tell her dinner was ready; the enchantress would pounce on him after Natasha was out of the way. "Why? Is this all for one guy? You just seem more complicated than that. Are you really doing all this just for Thor's attention? Don't you want to do something for you – for Amora – the _real_ you?"

"Thor found me after I was expelled from the Norns school, told me I was more powerful than they could ever be." For the first time Amora seemed to waver, grow uncertain. "Another student asked for my aid when we were there. At the time I was a child - young, foolish, generous. Once I gave her the help she needed for a foolish power play, she turned me in as the culprit."

"I see." Natasha spoke the truth - she _did_ see. Amora's one charitable act led to betrayal, which caused a lifetime of harsh strength and a resolve never to be kind or forthcoming again.

"She wanted to rid herself of her most dangerous competitor at the Norns school, and her plan worked. When I was told to leave I was about to fling myself off the roots of Yggdrasil to feed my body to the dragons there, but Thor found me. He showed me there was another way – a road where I could gain power and hold my fate in my hands."

"That makes sense. Thor's always been supportive like that, I guess." Natasha heard a twig break behind them; there were seconds left before Clint arrived. She actually had to force Amora's next move. "So, it's time."

"Yes, it is time." Amora held up one hand; her fingers started to glow. The ball of energy hit Natasha's chest so quickly she had no time to cry out; she could only hope Amora would transport back to Asgard before Clint appeared.

The force pushed her into the middle of the reservoir. She plunged in, kicking out, before she saw Amora had placed lead weights on each limb – huge balls of metal chained to her legs and arms. Once she splashed through the surface they pulled her down with such force she landed with a jolt and was half-buried in the silt at the bottom.

There was only one chance left if she was to survive. Among the duckweed and silt, Natasha twisted and thrashed. She managed to get her arm near her thigh and touch the Kenaz mark there, caress it with one desperate movement.

_Help me,_ she thought, before water rushed into her lungs.


	9. 9 Sif

**9 Sif**

* * *

"We must go and find her, if the plans outlined within are true." Sif waved the book with A on the spine at Thor. "Natasha is in the middle of this tangle at no small cost to her life."

"She is very strong," he began, but when she threw him a stormy glance he nodded. "You are right. For all her strength, she is a mortal. We could go this very instant, but during the Lokisleep I am the King of the Nine Realms."

"Hogun," Sif said. "He is the most quiet and also strongest. Send a servant to fetch him, and tell him to take the throne with the other Warriors in your absence."

"I will not go without you." Thor looked down at her from his great height and hefted Mjolnir. "You will come with me, and we shall fly."

* * *

Once the Warriors Three were alerted, Thor offered Sif his arm. "Do you know where to go?" she asked.

"Although Loki forbid it, Natasha gave me the location of her current case. We will go there."

"Why did she do that?" Sif looked astonished.

"I would not stop asking her until she gave in. I suppose you could call it a tactic of Loki's - he never gave up questioning until he got what he wanted." Thor wrapped his arms around her waist. "Are you ready?"

Sif nodded, and he raised Mjolnir over their heads. As the thunder rattled overhead, she sighed and pressed her mouth to his. Thor pulled her closer and moved to deepen the kiss; as he did she tasted him – so strange and familiar at once, and the universe whirled within and without her. It was one of the most erotic moments of her life.

* * *

"She sees mud. Fish. Weed. No sky, nor moon either. The water presses her eyelids closed, and soon they will close forever."

The voice was monotone. Sif pried herself lose from Thor's arms; Sylvie Lushton stood between them and a strange square building - impossibly ugly to their Asgardian eyes - with unseeing eyes.

"Thor!" Sif disengaged herself from the warm circle of his arms. "Pay attention. This is the one I told you about – the mortal Natasha and I met inside Karnilla." She approached the girl, who kept talking as though she couldn't hear Sif. "Sylvie? Do you know anything about Natasha?"

"Natasha." The girl shuddered, and her pale hair seemed to tangle by itself, like a nest of snakes. "She lies underwater. Not for long – her spirit is about to fly."

"Underwater!" Thor raised Mjolnir. "She is in danger? Where is she, maiden?"

Sylvie pointed. "Lake. Thirty miles hence. She is…"

Sif didn't hear the rest; Thor had already seized her once more to raise the hammer of the Gods.

* * *

"Natasha!" Clint's voice was cracked and filled with desperation as he called the agent's name over and over again.

Thor and Sif landed next to him on a sanded beach near a small pond; Thor would later describe it as a 'puddle'. "Friend Barton!" he thundered. "Where is our comrade?"

Clint's eyes filled with relief. "Thor - thank God! I didn't know what the hell to do. Natasha's missing – I've been calling for what seems like hours but it's probably only a few minutes – what the hell – what if she's in danger – I'm kicking myself…"

"Breathe," Sif told him.

His eyes flickered to her. "I – who are you?"

They were interrupted by a gold and green flash in the sky. Something hurtled out of the heavens, dove into the water, and disappeared.

"Next question," Clint added. "What the hell was that?"

Sif and Thor faced each other. "Was that your brother?" she asked.

"I believe so. How in Hel's name did he escape the Lokisleep? It is impossible! And yet I saw him, Sif. Did my eyes deceive me?"

"No, I saw him too. He just went under the Sleep... how would he escape the slumber...And why would he dive into a pond, unless…" Sif stopped and without hesitation waded into the water. "Natasha!" she called.

The silt under her boots was slimy and foul; she felt something wriggle underfoot. "Ugh. This water is filled with vermin."

"Yeah, got to agree with you there." Clint pointed; Loki emerged from the lake with Natasha in his arms. The agent's limbs hung down, tied with chains and huge weights.

Loki bent his head, in the dim light it seemed he was kissing her. As he strode closer Sif realized he blew his own breath into her chest; she followed him out of the water onto the gritty shoreline.

"Son of a bitch," Clint cursed. Loki lay Natasha down carefully; the archer added, "Keep it up. I'll start CPR."

Sif clasped her hands together. She was no stranger to death, but it was impossible to watch the bright spirit fade right in front of her. Images of Natasha flickered through her mind: kissing her in the bath, laughing in Loki's huge bed, intent on maps and plans of Karnilla, waking from a nightmare. It was unthinkable those things should exist no more. "For my sake, Loki – save her," she begged and turned her face into Thor's chest. Watching the desperate attempts to save her friend's life was impossible.

"Thor, my phone is by the campfire back there," Clint panted. "Call 911."

"Those fools will kill her." Loki paused to speak. "We will bring her to the healers on Asgard as soon as I revive her."

"She needs to be in a hospital right now, asshole!" Clint shouted. Loki merely made an impatient sound; a moment later Sif heard him as he resumed breathing into Natasha's mouth.

"'Twill be well," Thor murmured into her hair. "My brother will take care of her – and Agent Barton as well. She is in good hands, my love."

"She was the only one who listened." Sif was unable to repress a sob. "When you were gone I had no one. She believed in me…"

"Of course she did. The bravery and beauty of Lady Sif will always be legendary…." Thor stopped and raised his head; absentmindedly he stroked Sif's neck. "Brother! Did she move? Or do my eyes mislead me?"

"They do not." Sif looked up, hardly daring to hope, and Loki sat back with his chest heaving. "She is alive." He twisted one hand, and the chains fell off Natasha's limbs into the sand.

"Natasha." Clint bent over her. "Do you hear me, buddy? You here, Tash? Don't leave us now. You've got too much to do here. Stay with me, Nat."

"My own love," Loki added. "My own twin. Stay with us."

It was like a rhythmic chant. Sif clung onto the hard, solid length of Thor and watched as the two males spoke to her, each muttering their own pleas to the silent, dripping, flame-haired girl who lay lifeless between them.

Finally Natasha spluttered. She turned to one side, heaved, and vomited a great quantify of water onto the sands.

"Thank the Gods!" Sif dimly felt tears pour down her face. "Natasha…"

"She is going to the healers now." Loki, his lips firm with determination, lifted her into his arms; a moment later they both disappeared.

Clint stood too, and his arms spread in bewildered disapproval. "See, Thor? This is why I hate your brother. No 'Hey is it okay if we take your partner to a bunch of druids instead of a decent hospital', just Whoosh and they're off. No offense," he added.

"None taken, friend Barton, although I promise our healers are just as versed in medicine as any Midgard doctor and perhaps more so. If you hold onto me and Sif, I will bring you to Asgard myself so we may all visit Natasha as she recovers."

* * *

Armed with a plate of fruit and a present she thought Natasha would enjoy, Sif went to Natasha's room. The healers had sealed her off to go through _Grágás _with the elder læknirs for a period of several weeks; during that time Natasha refused to see anyone at all other than the healers.

As she approached the room, Clint sidled out. With an apologetic glance at Sif, he said, "Just had to visit before I lost my mind."

She nodded. "How is she?"

"Furious at everyone and everything. Natasha doesn't do lying down very well. And she wants to kill Loki."

"No, I want to cut off his balls with a rusty knife!" came a shout from within. "At least get the story straight, Barton!"

Sif grinned and marched inside. "You have regained your spirit, thank the Norns." She plopped the fruit beside Natasha's bed and handed her the gift. "Something for you to read in case you are bored."

Natasha, wearing a fetching nightgown of embroidered white silk, huffed and threw one of the seventeen pillows across the room. "In case I'm bored? I've been lying here for a century. If they keep me here one second longer I'm going to go out of my skull."

Sif gestured to her gift. "In that case, I have brought you something to help while the time away."

"Ugh, not another gift." Natasha waved at a pile heaped in one corner. "Your butthead future husband has sent me jewelry, flowers, paintings, clothes…as soon as I'm up on my feet I'm going to throw it all into his face. Or maybe just flush it down the toilet in the AllFather presidential suite and clog his plumbing until Ragnorak. Yup, that's probably the way to go."

"No longer my future husband." Sif drew up a chair and sat on it. "Loki said the experience of sinking into the Lokisleep when he knew you were in trouble decided it for him, and he released me from our betrothal."

"Oh. Well, good. I was kicking myself for shackling you to that ass." Natasha frowned. "Guess we're all back to normal, huh? I can return to SHIELD and you'll start up in the military again."

"As a matter of fact…"

Natasha's eyes became suspicious slits. "You're going to marry his brother now, right? Thor?"

Sif couldn't hold back a huge smile; it turned into a laugh of happiness. "Thor and I have spoken of it, yes. We have much to discuss – he still bears love for Jane Foster, and my own heart has its own scars…" Gently she put her hand over Natasha's arm. "In truth, I can never go 'back to normal', as you put it."

Cold fingers slid into hers, and Natasha tugged her close for a kiss. "I know," she replied, her voice growing husky. "It's all my fault. Things just happened so quickly, and I – I just wanted you so badly, Sif."

"I am afraid Thor would not permit outside relations if we do marry. Nor would I want them in such a marriage, should it happen." Sif kissed Natasha's cheek, eyelids, neck, the glorious curls. "We should wed in unsullied faith as an example to the court and the people of Asgard. Still, your presence in my bed is the one thing I would miss."

Natasha released a sad little chuckle. "I bet you won't need me to push his dick into you, right?"

Astonished, Sif felt a warm blush slide up her chest before she broke into loud laughter. "Indeed not!"

Sobering, Natasha picked at the linen wrapping the gift. "I'm glad. It was really short, our time together, but…"

"But all the sweeter for it. I will never forget you."

"Friends?"

Sif, with sorrow and overwhelming joy in her heart at once, took both of Natasha's hands. "Friends – forever." She leaned forward and kissed Natasha on the mouth slowly, tasting her musky flavor for the last time before sitting back.

"Cool. I never really had a female friend before, you know. It was always me and Clint. If you and I can stick together, it makes everything else bearable."

"Open your gift." Sif pulled the ribbon off the box, and the linen slid away to reveal the book she had found with A on the spine. "This was when I realized the plans between Amora and Loki – as soon as I saw it I knew you were in trouble."

"Oh." Natasha looked at the book before allowing it to drop to the silk quilt, trimmed with fur. "I don't need to look at it. Amora already gave me the background intel."

Sif rose. "It is your choice, but – do read the book. It will answer some questions you may still have."

* * *

Thor had requested her to attend him for a trip around Asgard's environs later; she needed to change into riding clothes. As for Loki, he had locked himself in his old prince's suite and had been there ever since Natasha threw him out of her room in the healer's wing. Repeated attempts to contact him by her, Thor, and the Warriors Three were met with cold silence.

On her way to her own rooms Sif was stopped by the god of thunder himself, wearing a huge grin and a loose shirt over his leathers. "Will you come to the tavern with me tonight?" Thor put one arm against the marble wall to stop Sif's escape.

"Nay, for it is unseemly. If you wish mead and a tale, have both in the hall where your friends dine." She smiled up into his face, hoping he couldn't hear the flutter of her heart under her own armor.

"Fandral? Volstagg?" He leaned closer, put his lips against her ear, and whispered, "But I do not wish to dine with them."

"With whom then?"

"You know very well." Thor kissed her neck, and she couldn't help a slight murmur of desire.

_Damn the man!_ He had her, and they both knew it. Cautiously she placed her hands on his armored chest. "I do know very well. And _you_ know I wish to elevate the morals of Asgard to the standard held by my beloved Queen. It is best we take things slowly and…"

"What! Wait until we are wed? Is that what you mean to say?" Thor sank to one knee, laughter brightening his face. "Take pity on me, maiden, and give me your troth. Say I am thine, and thus 'twill be forever and a day."

"Fine words," Sif scoffed. "No pity in this cold breast, knave. You must win me with more than fine words."

He lunged for her, but she avoided his hands and ran away from him with a mocking laugh. Joy fizzled in her breath as she bounded up the stairs to her rooms; it tickled her blood – her very bones. After centuries of one-sided love, Sif was able to breathe freely and allow herself hope for her future.

Those sparkling thoughts fizzled when she saw who stood in her doorway.

"You," she said.

"Me," Amora responded. "Me, and not you. You will never be queen of Asgard – that is promised to me alone. You found my book, did you not?"

Knowing she was facing her death, Sif decided to meet it head-on. She raised her chin and nodded. "I did." Her only chance was to keep Amora talking and hope Thor had decided to follow her.

"You might have returned it – I would have expected better from the affianced wife of the AllFather." Amora sniffed and flicked her gaze over Sif's figure. "Perhaps not so much from a former soldier forced to live in the mud during battle."

Sif felt her blood boil, but she refused to lose her temper in front of the enchantress. "Is there a point to this?"

"Of course. Loki has promised to wed me when he becomes the AllFather. You can approach now," she added in a louder voice.

Loki sauntered into the passage, swinging Gungnir. "This is a charming sight," he drawled. "Two of the loveliest ladies Asgard has to offer. What a shame Thor will not live to see it."

"Loki," Sif gasped. "What have you done?"

"Taken his life. With my brother gone, there is no other pretender to my throne."

Amora marched up to him, eyes filled with fury. "What are you saying, fool? This was not part of our bargain! What have you done to Thor?"

"Why does it matter? You have me, and together we will rule all of Yggdrasil." Loki flipped the scepter and caught it in his fist, white knuckled with simmering fury. He extended one end of the sceptre and pushed up Amora's chin. "That_ is_ what you wanted all along, was it not?"

"Wha-waht?" Her eyes darted between Sif and Loki, like those of an animal caught in a trap. "Of - of course it is, but what have you done? _What have you done?_" Her voice rose to a scream.

"Just sped things along." His face seemed to change. "For that is what you agreed to when we made the bargain."

"Have you both lost your minds? Or were you always…" _Insane,_ Sif thought, finishing her own sentence. She was in a narrow passage with two beings neither of whom had a rational thought between them. "Is Thor dead? Loki, for the love of Queen Frigga!"

"Dead indeed," he commented in a voice devoid of emotion. "What does it matter? The only beings who ever meant anything to me are gone – Frigga and the mortal downstairs. I am left with the throne and this charming future wife of mine, and we can betray each other into eternity."

"No! This was not what I wanted!" Amora shouted so loudly her body shook; she raised one fist and bit it.

"No?" Loki hissed. "If you refuse this, our agreement is no more."

Amora covered her face with both hands and sobbed into them; a moment later she seemed to turn into stone. "Very well," she added.

Loki hooded his eyes; never had Sif seen him appear so severe, so cruel. "Very well what?"

"If I can only have one Odinson brother, I will take what I can get." Amora raised one arm. "You sought to trap me, and now I have trapped you. You are promised to me with the blood oath we took, and I will have what we agreed to that day."

"You already broke the blood oath yourself," Sif interrupted. At those words Amora and Loki turned to her; disdain in her features, query in his. "Amora, you told Natasha you would stop at nothing until Thor was on the throne with you."

"How did you..." Amora stopped. "If the mortal said this, it is a lie. And in any case there is no proof."

"No?" Sif felt in her pocket and withdrew a rusted watch. "Behold - this Midgardian device captures words as they are spoken - crude, but effective." She pressed a button on the side, and Natasha's voice spoke out, tinny but very clear.

_"Now you have him on the throne, you'll enact your own private plan. Right? You won't rest until Thor becomes AllFather."_

At the sound of her voice, Loki's features became even more strict, as though they were carved from marble.

"There is more." Sif pressed the button again, and Amora's voice rang out.

_"Yes, of course. I must say I really did underestimate you. Who ever thought mortals could be clever and brave? We always considered you a type of insect, to be ruled and played with. I must say, you were a fun toy for a while – for me and for Loki as well."_

"No," he murmured, shaking his head. "No." For a moment no one moved until Amora shot forward, hands raised to hurl fire or worse at Sif.

"Archer!" Loki called. "Now!"

Sif's body stuttered. What did he mean by that? Her question was answered as the door burst open. Clint, his bow raised, shot an arrow at Amora's neck.

She raised one arm and screamed again; a bolt of light shot out from her palm. Loki threw himself in the way and seemed to catch the magical energy as easily as Sif had done as a child with a ball, playing Dead Man's Throw with Thor on the beaches near Marmora.

Clint was already fitting another arrow to his bow. There was a slight twang! and it flew, faster than Thor's own lightning, to wrap around Amora's wrist.

Sif felt everything slow down. The arrows, she saw, were not oak or metal or even mistletoe – they were magical. As the missiles touched the enchantress they fitted around her neck and wrists to create restraints, the same type Loki himself had worn in the dungeons.

"Well done!" she couldn't help shouting.

Loki ignored her and spoke again to Amora. "Your betrayal captured on the Midgard device has released me from our blood bargain. This gives me the right as AllFather to banish you from the Nine Realms."

Amora flung the hair back from her face. "Not quite yet." She was about to launch herself forward when several discs shot from the hall and hit her in the belly, chest, and head.

Astonished, Sif looked up and saw Natasha behind Clint in the hallway, holding out her wrist ready to launch another disc. "The AllFather has banished you. Don't overstay your welcome – it's rude." Her tone was deadly.

Shaking from the shock of the discs, Amora managed to stand. "How will you fling me out of the realm? You cannot!" she screamed.

"With this." A shadowed figure with gleaming hair joined Natasha. Thor whirled Mjolnir and threw the hammer; it shot into the room and punched a hole in the wall, flying out the other side.

Amora disappeared with it.

For a long moment no one moved, until Sif stumbled forward and caught Thor by the waist. "You are alive," she said. It was stupid and obvious and childish, but there was nothing else for her to say at that moment.

He chuckled and drew her close. "Yes."

"So, those arrows were sweet." Clint cleared his throat and added, "Seems your design actually worked, Laufeyson. Or do I have to to call you AllFather?"

Loki, his wary gaze on Natasha, shook his head. "Thor gave me the title to help banish Amora. I return it to him now for all time."

"Uh, you going to get your hammer back or what?" Clint asked.

"Yes, what about that?" Thor laughed. "Will Mjolnir return?"

"Eventually." Loki's eyes never left Natasha's face. "It was the only way I could remove the enchantress from Asgard," he said in a soft voice. "I knew once Odin was gone she would scheme to have the throne for Thor, and I had to pretend to join forces with her. She was too strong to take on alone."

"Why are you here?" Sif asked her. "You should be in the healer's rooms!"

"I read the book." Natasha's voice promised murder.

"Agent," Loki breathed. He took a step towards her.

"Stop." Natasha held up a hand. "It doesn't excuse you. After all, your convoluted plan involved victims on every level – in the asylum, Karnilla, not to mention my own time with Dr. Holmes. In order to get what you wanted, you played fast and loose with my life, and _that's_ not cool."

Thor scratched his head. "Perhaps we should adjourn for ale and food," he suggested. "Agent Romanov and Loki could join us later."

"Natasha, at first I thought you were a mere prop in the schemes I devised to rid the realm of Amora's presence." Loki ignored Thor as if his brother had never spoken. "But later …"

"Don't even start with the 'Everything changed when I learned to love you' speech!" she raged. "That's clichéd even for soap operas and not worthy of my intelligence!"

"Clichéd, perhaps, but no less true for that," he murmured. "And I have _never_ underestimated your intelligence."

Natasha regarded him steadily. She seemed to reach an internal decision and gestured to Clint. "We're leaving," she announced. "Thank the healers for me – let me know if I owe you anything. Tony will pick up from here on the Midgard-Asgard business relations deal. I'm heading to Manhattan, and I'm not coming back. Sif, if you decide to visit us, there's always a spare couch for you in my apartment."

She grasped Agent Barton by the wrist and pulled him out of the room; her firm, angry footsteps could be heard echoing in the hall.

Sif, prepared to launch into an angry diatribe at Loki to emphasize what had already been said, felt the words die in her throat as he closed his eyes. The three of them stood in her rooms in silence until he finally cursed and strode from the chamber, the white lines around his mouth proclaiming a simmering undercurrent of emotion - fury, perhaps, or sorrow.


	10. 10 Natasha

**10 Natasha**

* * *

"I mean, the business deal is simply not going to happen unless you are in on it. You're like the Beyoncé of inter-realm economics." Tony spread his arms wide and shrugged. "We can forget the whole thing, Tasha, if you want. I'll set aside my dreams of Stark Industries becoming the first company to trade with the Asgard Stock Exchange, and Fury can forget any magical contingent for SHIELD – it's not like we're on the budget chopping block or anything…"

Natasha groaned and let her head hang back to look at the ceiling. "Of course we're on the chopping block. Thanks for being the first to pile on the guilt."

"Thor has offered a special training program for Midgard students. The daughters of that guy you seem to care about so much will have the first slots if they want it."

She sprang up from her chair. "Sergil's kids? Are you fucking kidding me? He stooped that low to get me to return to Asgard? Son of a bitch!" Natasha continued in that vein for sometime, cursing out Loki, Asgard, and the entire Lushton/Briggs affair.

"Impressive vocabulary," Tony finally interjected. "Look, he's so douchey he probably has a nozzle fitted into that helmet, but I gotta relate to what he's doing here. As a former douche myself I know he's just trying to get back into your…"

"Do not even say the word Pants." Natasha doubled her fist and Tony ducked, but she punched the wall instead. _Just like Loki did in my apartment,_ she thought. Could she ever get him out of her system? Shaking her fingers, she stated the inevitable. "I'll help with the deal, as long as you come with me. I'm not going there alone. And," she added as Tony leapt to his feet and started to babble his thanks, "we're coming back here right after the meeting. I'm not hanging around for banquets or balls or anything."

"No? Darn it, I like balls. Wait, that doesn't sound quite right. I mean, I enjoy – no, that's not good either."

Natasha snorted and left the office.

* * *

In her apartment she typed up her acceptance of the Midgard-Asgard position, edited the doc, and sent it to Fury. Once that was done, Natasha thought she deserved a long drink and some really unhealthy food; she wandered into her kitchen and rummaged in her freezer. It yielded half a bottle of vodka and some frozen pizza rolls.

She put a plate of them in her microwave and poured vodka into a glass. As she was about to take a swallow, the pop in the atmosphere behind her proclaimed the arrival of someone from another realm.

Thor had already come to her rooms several times bearing letters and gifts from Loki. Natasha cut each visit short and sent the stuff back unopened – she refused to allow infinite wealth get the better of her own hurt and anger. "You can take it back again, Thor," she called out, "whatever it is. Nothing personal, dude, but I'm not talking to your brother anymore."

"Very understandable." The voice was husky with desire.

Natasha slammed her drink onto the counter and strode out to the living room. Loki stood there with a large wooden box; his eyes were hooded as though he knew what would come next. "You have some kind of nerve showing up here in my apartment!" Natasha fumed. "Get your pitiful ass out of my home and back to the palace where it belongs."

"Be silent for one moment." Loki opened the box and showed her the contents. "Made by Manton in the 19th century. Do you like them?"

A pair of dueling pistols lay on a velvet bed in the box. Natasha gasped at the sight; Manton pistols were extremely rare. Of all the cravings she ever had in her life, somehow he had hit on the one she couldn't resist. "Is that a Prince of Wales buttplate? And inlaid horn with ivory?" she asked, brushing one piece with her finger.

Carefully Loki closed the box and put it down on the coffee table. "A small taken of thanks for taking the liaison position between our realms." He raised his chin in the direction of her kitchen. "Could we drink to the success of commerce between our realms?"

Natasha tamped down the simmering anger running through her veins. "No, you can bring back those pistols to the auction house where you bought them. And how did you hear I had accepted the position?"

"I did not hear anything. However, I assumed you would eventually take it."

"And why did you assume that?"

Loki crossed his arms, widened his stance, and smiled. "There were many benefits to doing so, as well as many risks if you did not. One thing I have always admired about you agent, even from the very first, is your intelligence. I knew you would make the right choice."

"Let me see your palms."

The demand seemed to surprise him, although he uncrossed his arms and held out his hands. "Why?"

Natasha come closer, looked at his hands closely, and stepped away again. "You took a blood oath with Amora. Why is there no scar?"

"Oh, I see." His eyes never left hers. "Believe me, I wanted no souvenir of that decision - I only keep one scar. You know what it is. And I have a question."

Natasha tilted her head on one side. "Out with it, but you need to leave as soon as I answer."

"You look like a sparrow when you do that," he commented. "Tell me, why did you come to Sif's chambers prepared for battle? All evidence led to the conclusion I had betrayed you. Yet you knew I had an ulterior motive. Did you find the clue I left in Amora's own book?"

"I knew there was another layer of betrayal as soon as Amora left me that envelope." Natasha turned away, walked to the window, and stared outside where the sunset bled across the sky. "It was too obvious. Too neat. You would never have allowed yourself to be compromised - I realized you were double-crossing her as well as me. And there were other clues, of course, when I looked back. You told me the first night I proposed Sif as your queen you regretted the entire Amora affair. I realize now you weren't just talking about sex. You meant consorting with her at all, including your little deal with the devil."

Silence, punctuated with the far sounds of the city below, stretched. For a moment she thought Loki had left and transported back to Asgard, but when she turned he was right behind her, so close her shoulder brushed his chest. "My twin," he breathed. "You alone understand me."

"Get the hell away from me!" Natasha pushed him so hard he staggered. "You think you can play fast and loose with my life and still have me?"

Loki blinked several times. "I have one last gift, in that case. May I show it to you?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake. This is hard enough as it is. Just take your shit and get out of my life."

He produced a dagger, the same one she had first used on him in the safe house. Something new was engraved on the hilt, she saw: her own Perthro rune entwined with Kenaz. "I will release you from the spell I enacted our first night together in the safe house if you wish it." Loki said. "You can be free, Natasha."

"Call me Agent. And what's the catch?"

"No catch." Loki spread his arms wide. "Although in order for it to be done we must both be naked."

"Oh, that is such bullshit! We had our clothes on when you added the spell to your own little scar..." Her voice tailed off; she realized that was wrong. Petro was cut into Loki's skin at the table while they ate steak and oysters, but the magic had been planted later when they lay in bed.

"Just so." Loki's own irrepressible grin crossed his face.

Natasha grabbed the knife and pointed in the direction of her bedroom. "Get the hell in there."

"Oh." Loki sprang forward, seized her hand, and blinked. The room folded forward, and they were inside her sleeping quarters.

He stalked forward and pitched onto the mattress; under his weight the bed groaned. "Midgard furniture is terrible," he complained.

"Shut up and get rid of your clothes." Natasha weighed the knife in her hand; she had forgotten how sharp it was; how nicely it balanced in her fist. She her shirt off quickly, shucked off her jeans, and straddled his lap sit where his erection reared, feeling it jut between her thighs.

Carefully, never breaking eye contact, he moved his hand so it rested on Kenaz still there on her thigh. Instantly her clit started to flutter like the wings of a butterfly, moving up inside her walls.

"Cut it out now." Natasha couldn't resist brushing her soaked slit over his hardness, relishing the feel of his hard flesh against her quivering softness. Never again to feel the quiver of his desire: as soon as he cut out the enchantment she would be completely alone. It was nothing new, she told herself. For years she had lived in solitude, and she could do it again.

"Are you ready?" His voice was husky, his lust very evident. She nodded, hoping he would do it quickly before she changed her mind.

Loki flipped her onto her back and gestured for the dagger; Natasha fisted the quilt and hissed as the blade bit into her skin. He pulled the blade along the angle of Kenaz, and her own blood coursed down her thigh. The combined red and green mist floated out of the cut, and it was lost in the twilight air. Slowly, she felt her breathing and heart rate return to normal.

"Now mine." Loki handed her the dagger, and she got to her knees.

The blade shook against the skin where Perthro bloomed when Natasha sliced into the scar as deeply as she could. Blood bloomed under the dagger, running over his pale skin. A sudden compulsion made her lean forward; Loki whimpered as she tasted him. It was cool and less salty than a human's, and it tingled on her tongue. As she finished cutting the scar a wisp of combined green and red floated out of the wound and disappeared in the twilight.

"Now you are truly free." Loki's eyes claimed hers; she felt she couldn't look away from that sea-glass stare. "Alone, as you were before. Congratulations, agent."

Natasha moved away on the bed and reached for her shirt. Kenaz was silent, its constant voice lost. She hasn't realized until that moment how she depended on its constant murmur for - for what? Companionship? Some type of input so she knew she was alive?

No, freedom was more important. She would be on her own again: an agent of SHIELD, moving with solitary grace against a background of deception and despair.

_You live like dead. Move like dead. No love. Your life is shit._ Thus the words from Sergil's ghost, and the worst of it was the truth of the statement.

Raising her chin, Natasha beckoned for the dagger. Without a word, Loki handed it to her; his eyes were bright, curious, as though he wondered what would come next. "I want a blood vow," she announced.

His breath hitched. "We cannot. My blood - it could corrupt your system."

"Bullshit. My system can handle nuclear waste if you ever decide to inject me with it."

"What do you want to ask of me?"

"Just do it," Natasha said between her teeth.

A look she had never seen on his face: a desperate laugh, followed by a tiny sob as he pulled her legs to tug her onto the blood-stained mattress. Loki breathed her name and brought her thigh to his chest. Kenaz and Perthro touched, and she felt his coldness slip out of his body into hers as their blood mingled.

Darkness slid through her veins. At that moment she felt like an addict receiving a hit after years off a drug; Loki's blood filled her with ecstasy. Before she knew it she exploded with a release so violent it jerked her entire body.

"Your vow!" he shouted. "What is it?"

"Never use me again," Natasha panted. "Vow you will never involve me or SHIELD in any of your Asgard ops, or I'll slice it off." Probably she didn't have to specify what 'it' referred to.

"I vow I will never involve you in a quest in my realm again without your knowledge, Natasha." She could see the head of his cock twitch as he spoke, and clear liquid gathered at the little slit on the top. "But I demand a vow as well."

Shit. Well, she had practically asked for it. "What the hell do you want?" Another orgasm was building inside her; Natasha found it difficult to think.

"Lay with me once more as we are right now." Carefully Loki detached Kenaz from Perthro and loomed over her.

"Loki, it's probably better if we don't."

"Vow," he repeated in a low voice, more intensely than she had ever heard him speak before.

Her face must have betrayed her; as she nodded he leaned closer.

Dimly she felt him press her down; an instant later he slid inside so slowly she groaned in protest. Their hands clasped together, the knife between them. She tried to move quickly, to make it end faster; the thought their coupling would never happen again was pure acid in her heart.

"No." Loki shook his head. "Slowly - move slowly with me." Never releasing her gaze, he kissed her lips gently, rocked into her with a motion so subtle, so feather light she could hardly bear it.

"Is that what you need?" she gasped.

"It is what _you_ need."

She was unable to stop herself as her arms slipped around his neck and she crossed her ankles behind his back. "Why did you do it? We could have - could have..."

His breath whistled near her ear; his length inside her found the spot she couldn't resist. Loki's hand framed her face; one thumb caressed her neck. She had never felt so wanted, so desired. "Amora..." His face spasmed with pleasure. "She would have - destroyed Asgard - and Midgard - had to stop it..."

Natasha stared into his green eyes, so like hers, so wide with surprise at the sensation, before another spasm racked her and she jolted with pleasure so intense it was nearly painful. Loki threw back his head and howled; she pushed herself up to bite his neck. The cool, salty taste of his blood was delicious on her tongue; it pumped through her blood. He was inside her in every sense of the word.

"Gods! Yes! Natasha! Sweet, sweet – this is sweet…" Loki's words died away and he collapsed onto her chest.

For an unknown time they lay like that, their breath heaving, the dagger in their entwined fingers. Natasha tried to say something and stopped; she had no words left. Perhaps they slept a little, still entangled in the bloody sheets.

"I was a fool," he murmured into her hair at last. "I should never have proposed mere marriage to you. Will you forgive me, agent?"

"What?" Natasha was bewildered.

"You already know. We were connected far deeper than any set of vows in front of officiating fools could make us." Gently Loki turned his head, captured her lips, and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. "And even if you throw me out of your life now, it will always be the case."

Natasha luxuriated in the feeling and taste of him, even as the blood turned sticky on their skin. She had to ask one thing first, though. "What about Sylvie Lushton?"

"She retains some powers. I believe she has contacted the Briggs fellow. Apparently he is sincere about moving beyond an 'outmoded trope of good versus evil'. His words. She is going to help him set up a group based on your own Avengers, Agent."

"And Thor? And Sif?"

A slight frown creased his brow. "To be married, as you must have heard. Thor is ruler of the Nine Realms, although he begged me to stay on as advisor."

"Oh, dear. That will give you a lot more time for mischief."

At once his own naughty grin made Loki's eyes twinkle. "Yes, it will. I fear Thor will not allow Sif to do any of the things we once…"

"No, of course not!" Natasha blinked. "It was very sweet, the three of us, wasn't it?"

"Will you miss it?"

"Yes, I will. Although I'm glad we never had an argument or even an unpleasant moment when you and I were with Sif, so those memories are untarnished."

Loki pulled her even closer with one impetuous tug. Already she could feel his sex stir between her legs again. "And you? What will you do now?"

"Be an Agent of SHIELD. Be the business liaison between Asgard and Midgard." Natasha cast a mental salute up to Sergil, wherever he was, as she let go and floated downstream into a new life. "Be something new."

"I could breach you again right now if you willed it." His whisper tickled her ear, just as demanding as Kenaz had ever been on her skin. "All you have to do is reconsider."

She was on the knife-blade, able to fall either way - eternal solitude, or constant dalliance and danger with her celestial twin. The words caught in her throat as Natasha weighed her answer and her fate.

* * *

**Written on the final page inside Amora's journal:**

_When you read this, you will see I am even darker than you thought. Once I told Thor of a dragon at the foot of Yggdrasil who ate the roots there, even though it knew doing so meant its eventual death. And the reason: It was in the dragon's nature._

_And thus I explained away my own deeds, even though I knew they could lead to an end of all I held dear. It was in my nature._

_But I see now I am not a dragon. Those huge Wyrms think of nothing but gold and their bellies. I have more inside – a light which shines into my darkness, making it all painfully obvious to my own awareness._

_Power of magic and over the realms – they are all I desired, throughout my long life. However, once I saw her again in the asylum – so slight, so young, a mere girl – I knew there was another power greater than anything I ever schemed and plotted._

_Know this: even though my deeds seem to have an obvious end, I have another goal in mind. And I will not rest until I hold what I want in my hands, for as long as she lives._

_Loki_

**_END_**

* * *

**_NOTE - As always, thanks so much for taking the time to read this story. It was a beast to write, but I loved playing with those characters; I can only hope I did in a way to preserve what they are. In any case, you bring the magic when you read what I wrote._**


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